mmmimm 


THE  REMINISCENCES 

OF 


RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 


m 


RS.GEORGE  CORNWALLIS^WEST 


THE  REMINISCENCES  OF 

LADY 
RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 


...nHS^i' 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 


THE  REMINISCENCES  OF 

LADY 
RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 


BY 


MRS.  GEORGE  CORNWALLIS-WEST 


1FllU6tratet) 


NEW  YORK 

THE  CENTURY  CO. 
1908 


Copyright,  1907,  1908,  by 
The  Century  Co. 


Published  October,  1908 


THE  DE  VINNE  PRESS 


THIS  BOOK  IS  INSCRIBED 

TO  MY  TWO  SONS 

WINSTON  AND  JOHN 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 


Chapter  I.  Early  Recollections — Paris — Society  of  the 
Second  Empire  —  Princess  Metternich — The  Due  de 
Talleyrand  —  Parties  at   Compiegne 3 

Chapter  II.  Paris,  1870  —  Franco-German  War — Na- 
poleon III  AT  Sedan  —  London  and  Cowes  —  Paris  after 
THE  War 25 

Chapter  III.  Marriage  and  London  Life  —  Lord  Ran- 
dolph Churchill  —  London  in  the  Eighties — Rotten 
Row — Then  and  Now — Americans  in  England — Man- 
ners and  Customs 45 

Chapter  IV.  Blenheim  —  Country-house  Life — Art  Trea- 
sures—  Distinguished   Visitors 75 

Chapter  V.  Trip  to  America  —  The  Irish  Appointment — 
Life  in  Dublin  —  Hunting — The  Empress  Elizabeth  — 
The  Phcenix  Park  Murders — Jubilee  Year 93 

Chapter  VI.  London,  1880 — Political  Life — Rise  of 
Fourth  Party — Mr.  Balfour — Mr.  Chamberlain  — 
Lord  Goschen — Mr.  Gladstone — The   Primrose  League 

—  CONNAUGHT    PlACE  —  PROFESSIONAL    BeAUTIES        .       .       .        .119 

Chapter  VII.  Death  of  the  Duke  of  Marlborough — 
Gastein  —  The  Aston  Riots — Lord  Randolph's  Letters 
from    India — A   Tiger-hunt — Benares — Lord  and    Lady 

DUFFERIN 149 

Chapter  VIII.  Lord  Randolph  in  the  Cabinet — Elec- 
tioneering at  Woodstock — Colonel  Burnaby — Can- 
vassing AT  Birmingham — Sir  Henry  James — Home  Rule 
— QuKRN  Victoria  and  Windsor  Castle — Indian  Affairs 

— Lord  Randolph's  Resignation l66 

vii 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Chapter  IX.  After  Lord  Randolph's  Resignation — Sand- 
RiNGHAM — Women  and  Sport — The  Comtesse  de  Paris — 
Lord  and  Lady  Salisbury — The  1887  Jubilee — Mr. 
Chamberlain  and  the  Late  Duke  of  Devonshire — 
Hardwick  Hall — A  Naval  Review — Lord  Randolph  on 
the  Turf 187 

Chapter  X.  Russia — Life  in  St.  Petersburg — The  Czar  and 
Czarina  —  Court  Functions — Social  Customs — Moscow — 
Prince  Dolgorouki — Russian  Ladies — The  Duchess  of 
Saxe-Coburg-Gotha — Lord  Randolph  at  Messina  .     .     .  214 

Chapter  XI.  Berlin  Society  and  Court — Bismarck — Paris 
— General  Boulanger — King  Milan — Bourget       .     .     .  248 

Chapter  XII.  Lord  Randolph's  Candidature  for  Birming- 
ham— Visit  to  Hatfield — The  Shah's  Visit  to  London 
— Salons — Bayreuth — Music 273 

Chapter  XIII.  A  Tour  round  the  World — New  York — 
The  Rockies — California — Travels  in  Japan — Captain 
and  Mrs.  Brinkley — The  Empress  of  Japan — Nikko — 
China — Singapore — Rangoon — Return  to  England    .     .  303 

Chapter  XIV.  Lord  and  Lady  Curzon — "The  Anglo- 
Saxon  Review" — Lord  Rosebery — Mrs.  Craigie — Two 
Similar  Plays — Lord  Morley — Lord  Salisbury — Cecil 
Rhodes — Bernard  Shaw — Critics  of  "The  Anglo-Saxon"  354 

Chapter  XV.  Devonshire  House  Fancy  Ball — The  South 
African  War — The  Hospital-Ship  Maine — Queen  Vic- 
toria— The  Red-Cross  Flag — Start  for  the  Cape       .     .  386 

Chapter  XVI.  Voyage  to  Cape  Town — Visit  to  Pieter- 
maritzburg — Durban  —  Visits  to  Chieveley  Camp  and 
Ladysmith — Lord  Roberts — Return  to  England     .     .     .  416 


APPENDIX.     Containing  Translations  of  French  Let- 
ters      


467 


viu 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Lady  Randolph  Churchill Frontispiece 

From  a  charcoal  sketch  by  John  S.  Sargent 

PAGE 

The  Misses  Jerome  as  children 8 

From  a  photograph  by  Brady 
Miss  Jennie  Jerome,  as  a  vivandiere,  at  ten  years  of  age      .     .      13 

Mrs.  Leonard  Jerome,  mother  of  Lady  Randolph  Churchill       .     21 

From  a  photograph  by  W.  Kurtz 

Due  de  Persigny 29 

Leonard  Jerome 42 

Lord  Randolph  Churchill  in  1874 48 

From  a  photograph  by  Alexander  Bassano 

Lady  Randolph  Churchill 57 

From  a  photograph  by  Sarony 

His  Grace,  John,  First  Duke  of  Marlborough 64 

After  the  portrait  by  Godfrey  Kneller 

Her  Grace,  Sarah  Jennings,  First  Duchess  of  Marlborough  .     .     67 
After  the  portrait  by  Godfrey  Kneller 

George,  Fourth  Duke  of  Marlborough,  and  his  family  ....     72 

From  an  engraving  of  the  picture  painted  at  Blenheim  in  1777  by 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds 

View  of  Blenheim  Palace 79 

Gateway  at  Blenheim 79 

The  entrance  hall,  Blenheim 83 

His  Grace,  George  Charles,  Seventh  Duke  of  Marlborough  .     .     88 
From  a  photograph  by  Chancellor,  Dublin 

ix 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Her  Grace,  Frances  Anne,  Duchess  of  Marlborough    .     .     .     .     91 


PAGE 


Dublin  Castle,  the  official  residence  of  the  Lords  Lieutenant  .     .     96 

Drawn  by  Joseph  Pennell 

Lady  Randolph  Churchill  in  riding  costume 101 

The  Marquis  of  Londonderry 108 

From  the  painting  by  John  S.  Sargent  at  Londonderry  House,  London 

The  Marchioness  of  Londonderry 113 

From  a  photograph  by  Lafayette,  Ltd. 

The  Ladies'  Gallery  in  the  House  of  Commons 121 

Drawn  by  Andre  Castaigne 

Sir  Charles  Dilke 129 

From  a  photograph  by  W.  &  D.  Downey,  London 

Sir  William  Harcourt 129 

From  a  photograph  by  Elliott  &  Fry 

Joseph  Chamberlain 129 

From  a  photograph  by  Elliott  &.Fry 

"The  Fourth  Party"  in  the  House  of  Commons 134 

From  a  lithograph  published  in  "Vanity  Fair" 

Arthur  James  Balfour 141 

From  a  photograph  by  W.  &  D.  Downey,  London 

Georgiana,  Countess  of  Dudley    .     . 146 

From  a  photograph  by  Alexander  Bassano 

The  bridge  at  Blenheim 155 

From  a  picture  by  Turner 

Lord  Randolph  Churchill I60 

From  a  photograph  by  J.  Russell  &  Sons 

Ready  for  an  electioneering  tour 169 

Sandringham 186 

From  a  photograph  by  F.  Ralph 

Study   by    George    Frederick   Watts    for    a    portrait    of    King 
Edward  VII,  when  Prince  of  Wales I90 

By  permission  of  Frederick  Hollyer 

Isabelle,  Comtesse  de  Paris I95 

A  distinguished  group  at  Sandringham 199 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

The  Marquis  of  Hartington,  late  Duke  of  Devonshire     .     .     .  208 

From  a  photograph  by  Alexander  Bassano 

The  Winter  Palace,  St.  Petersburg 221 

Grand  Duke  Serge — The  Grand  Duchess  Serge 227 

Grand    Duke    Alexander,    afterward   Alexander    III,    and   the 
Princess  Dagmar,  now  Dowager  Empress  of  Russia       .     .     .  233 

The  Kremlin,  Moscow 240 

Count  von  Moltke 253 

From  a  photograph  by  F.  C.  Schaarwachter 

Count  Otto  von  Bismarck 260 

M.  de  Breteuil 267 

From  a  photograph  by  Nadar 
General  Georges-Ernest-Jean-Marie  Boulanger 267 

From  a  photograph  by  Benque.    Reproduction  authorized  by  Pirou 

Lady  de  Grey .  276 

From  a  photograph  by  W.  &  D.  Downey,  London 

Baron  Maurice  von  Hirsch — Colonel  North 281 

The  Wagner  Theater  at  Bayreuth 290 

Jean  de  Reszke — Edouard  de  Reszke 293 

From  photographs  by  Benque 

Franz    Liszt 299 

From  a  photograph  by  Nadar 

Ignace  Paderewski 299 

Drawn  by  Irving  Wiles 

Sir  Arthur  Sullivan 299 

From  a  photograph  by  Chancellor,  Dublin 

Lady  Randolph  Churchill 310 

From  a  photograph  by  Taber,  San  Francisco 

Traveling  in  a  straw  chair 318 

Lord  Curzon  of  Kedleston 327 

From  a  photograph  by  Elliott  &  Fry 

xi 


List  of  illustrations 


PAGE 


The  Yomeimon  Gate  at  Nikko 338 

From  a  stereograph,  copyright,  1904,  by  Underwood  &  Underwood,  New  York 

Schwe  Dagon  Pagoda — Government  House,  Singapore    .     .     .  347 

Farewell  dinner  to  Lord  and  Lady  Curzon,  on  their  departure 
for  India 355 

From  a  photograph  by  Fradelle  &  Young 

Lady  Curzon  of  Kedleston 360 

From  a  photograph  by  Baron  de  Meyer 

Mrs.  Craigie  (John  Oliver  Hobbes) 369 

From  a  photograph  by  Elliott  &  Fry 

The  Right  Hon.  Cecil  Rhodes  and  his  house  at  Cape  Town    .     .  378 

From  a  sketch  by  the  Duchess  of  Rutland  and  a  photograph 

Lady  Randolph  Churchill,  as  the  Byzantine  Empress  Theodora, 
at  the  Devonshire  house  fancy-dress  ball 389 

From  a  photograph  by  Lafayette,  Ltd. 

The  Duchess  of  Somerset,  as  she  appeared  at  the  Devonshire 
house  fancy-dress  ball 393 

After  a  photogravure  from  the  painting  by  Sir  E.  J.  Poynter,  published  by 
Walker  &  Boutall 

Executive  Committee  of  the  Hospital-ship  Maine 397 

From  a  photograph  by  Lafayette,  Ltd. 

Some  of  the  staff  of  the  American  Hospital-ship  Maine    .     .     .  405 
The  American  Hospital-ship  Maine  in  Durban  Harbor     .     .     .412 

From  a  photograph  by  the  Bower  Studio,  Durban,  South  Africa 

Field-Marshal  Lord  Roberts  inspecting  the  Maine  at  Cape  Town  422 

Lady  Randolph  Churchill  and  her  son,  Mr.  John  Churchill,  on 
board  the  Hospital-ship  Maine 425 

From  a  photograph  by  the  Bower  Studio,  Durban,  South  Africa 

His    Excellency,    Sir    Walter    Hely-Hutchinson,    Governor    of 
Natal  in  1900 436 

From  a  photograph  by  Robertson,  Pietermaritzburg,  South  Africa 

Gun  at  Chieveley  Camp  named  after  Lady  Randolph  Churchill  439 

The  Hospital-ship  Maine  with  the  Combined  British  Channel 
and  Mediterranean  Squadrons,  off  Nauplia,  Greece  ....  455 

Picture,  copyright  by  the  "Graphic,"  October  4,  1902 

Salisbury  Hall,  St.  Albans  (present  home  of  the  writer)     .     .  46l 

xii 


PREFACE  TO  BOOK 

In  studying  the  prefaces  to  various  contemporary 
Memoirs,  I  find  that  most  of  them  are  apologetic  in 
tone,  and  I  ask  myself  .  .  .  why?  If  a  book  needs  an 
apology  ought  it  to  be  written  ? 

Having  been  favored  by  Providence  with  delightful 
and  absorbing  experiences,  having  traveled  all  over  the 
world,  and  met  many  of  the  most  distinguished  people 
of  my  generation,  why  should  I  not  record  all  that  I  can 
about  them,  and  about  the  stirring  things  I  have  seen, 
or  shared  in  doing  ? 

I  have  done  so.  But  there  may  be  some  to  whom  these 
Reminiscences  will  be  interesting  chiefly  in  virtue  of 
what  is  left  unsaid. 

J.  C.  W. 

Salisbury  Hall,  St.  Albans,  England,  1908 


REMINISCENCES  OF 
LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 


,  REMINISCENCES  OF 
LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 


CHAPTER  I 

EARLY  RECOLLECTIONS— PARIS  1869 

MY  father  was  for  three  years  American  Consul 
at  Trieste,  and  Italy  thus  colored  my  first  im- 
pression of  life,  although  I  was  born  in  Brook- 
lyn, in  the  State  of  New  York.  Itahan  skies  gave  me 
my  love  of  heat  and  of  the  sun,  and  a  smiling,  dark- 
eyed  peasant  nurse  tuned  my  baby  ears  to  the  harn^ony 
of  the  most  melodious  of  all  languages.  Until  the  age 
of  six  I  spoke  hardly  anything  but  Italian.  My  father, 
Leonard  Jerome,  a  Princeton  graduate  and  the  most 
enterprising  of  nine  brothers,  soon  wearied  of  the  tran- 
quil life  of  a  Mediterranean  town,  and  returned  to 
America  with  my  mother  and  three  small  children,  all 
girls,  one  of  whom  died  a  year  or  two  later.  On  our 
journey  back  I  remember  how,  as  we  crossed  the  Mont 
Cenis  in  a  vettura,  the  deep  snow  filled  my  childish  mind 

with  awe  and  astonishment.    But  this  was  a  sight  I  was 
soon  to  become  familiar  with  in  my  own  country. 

3 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

For  four  or  five  years  my  family  lived  in  New  York, 
where  my  father,  in  making  and  unmaking  several  for- 
tunes, and  at  one  time  virtually  possessing  the  whole  of 
the  Pacific  Mail  Line,  found  plenty  of  scope  for  his 
ambitions  and  his  active  brain.  For  a  short  period  he 
was  co-editor  of  the  "New  York  Times"  with  Mr.  Henry 
Raymond.  He  founded  Jerome  Park  and  the  Coney 
Island  Jockey  Club,  the  first  of  the  two  great  American 
race-courses,  and  with  his  friend  August  Belmont  made 
good  his  claim  to  being  called  "the  father  of  the  Ameri- 
can turf." 

Then  came  the  period  of  the  Civil  War.  That  great 
struggle,  which  for  four  years  devastated  my  country 
and  sacrificed  a  million  men  in  the  cause  of  freedom, 
passed  our  nursery  unmolested,  and  I  remember  nothing 
about  it  except  that  every  little  Southerner  I  met  at 
dancing  classes  was  a  "wicked  rebel,"  to  be  pinched,  if 
possible ;  while  the  words  of  the  bitter  parody  which  we 
used  to  sing  to  the  tune  of  "Maryland,  My  Maryland" 
come  back  to  me  to-day. 

Besides  the  4th  of  July  celebrations  of  fire-crackers, 
and  memories  of  burnt  fingers,  and  St.  Patrick's  Day 
processions  when  the  streets  were  filled  yearly  with  an 
ever-increasing  crowd  of  Paddies  and  Biddies,  one  vivid 
recollection  of  an  important  event  strikes  across  my 
mind.  I  remember  our  house  in  Madison  Square  draped 
from  top  to  bottom  in  white  and  black,  and  the  whole  of 
New  York  looking  like  one  gigantic  mausoleum.  It 
was  the  funeral  of  President  Lincoln. 

Next  came  a  few  uneventful  years  of  lessons,  with 
matinees  at  the  opera  "to  improve  our  minds,"  sleighing 
and  skating  for  pleasure,  and  on  red-letter  days  a  drive 

4 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

to  Jerome  Park  on  my  father's  coach,  where,  tiny  mite 
that  I  was,  I  always  occupied  the  seat  of  honor  next  him. 
Sometimes  from  afar  I  could  see  the  blue  and  white  of 
his  racing  colors  come  in  first,  which  was  a  great  excite- 
ment. On  one  occasion  I  was  hoisted  upon  the  back  of 
his  most  famous  race-horse — the  celebrated  "Ken- 
tucky," whose  sire  "Lexington"  and  dam  "Magnolia" 
by  "Glencoe,"  were  of  the  best  blood  in  England.  Ken- 
tucky was  never  beaten,  but  came  to  an  untimely  end, 
being  burned  to  death  on  his  way  to  California,  my  fa- 
ther having  sold  him  for  the  then  fabulous  sum  of 
$40,000.  Unlike  most  American  children,  we  were  sel- 
dom permitted  to  go  to  boy  and  girl  dances,  but  a  photo- 
graph I  have  of  myself  at  the  age  of  ten,  dressed  as  a 
vivandiere,  reminds  me  of  a  fancy  ball  given  by  ]Mr. 
Belmont  to  which  I  was  allowed  to  go.  For  days  I  did 
not  sleep  with  the  excitement  of  anticipation,  but  on  the 
eventful  night  I  was  found  in  a  flood  of  tears,  the  ex- 
planation being  that  I  did  not  look  "at  all  as  I  thought  I 
was  going  to" — a  situation  which,  alas!  has  often  re- 
peated itself. 

We  spent  several  delightful  summers  at  Newport, 
where  my  father  had  built  a  charming  villa  more  in  ac- 
cordance with  one's  idea  of  a  seaside  residence  than  the 
gorgeous  white  marble  palaces  which  are  the  fashion 
nowadays.  There  we  were  allowed  to  run  wild  and  be  as 
grubby  and  happy  as  children  ought  to  be. 

Mrs.  Ronalds,  who  was  as  gifted  as  she  was  lovely, 
and  shared  with  Mrs.  Ritchie  (now  Mrs.  Adair)  the 
reputation  of  being  the  reigning  beauty,  gave  me  a  spe- 
cies of  small  dog-cart  and  two  donkeys  which  rejoiced 
in  the  names  of  "Willie"  and  "Wooshey."     With  the 

5 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

cart  filled  with  half  a  dozen  children,  and  urged  by  a 
stick,  at  the  end  of  which  was  "the  business  end  of  a  tin 
tack,"  christened  the  "Persuader,"  Willie  and  Wooshey 
were  gently  made  to  tear  up  and  down  Bellevue  Avenue 
at  the  risk  of  our  necks  and  every  one  else's.  The  cart 
and  its  occupants  soon  became  a  terror  to  the  smart  folk 
in  their  silks  and  feathers  who  drove  majestically  by. 
These  were  delightful  days. 

In  1867,  owing  to  my  mother  having  become  ill,  we 
sailed  for  Europe  in  order  that  she  might  consult  the 
celebrated  American  physician  Dr.  Sims,  in  Paris.  I 
little  thought  I  was  fated  not  to  return  to  my  native  land 
until  1876,  when  I  had  already  been  married  two  years. 
Finding  that  the  educational  advantages  were  greater  in 
Paris  than  in  New  York,  we  decided  to  remain  there. 
On  regaining  her  health,  my  mother  went  out  a  great 
deal  in  French  society,  where  her  beauty  attracted  much 
attention,  la  belle  Americaine  at  that  time  having  all  the 
charm  of  novelty. 

The  last  flicker  of  the  candle,  the  last  flame  of  the  dying 
fire,  is  ever  the  brightest;  and  so  it  was  with  Paris  in 
1869. 

Never  had  the  Empire  seemed  more  assured,  the 
court  more  brilliant,  the  fetes  more  gorgeous.  The 
light-hearted  Parisians  reveled  in  the  daily  sights  of 
royal  processions  and  cavalcades.  The  Bois  de  Bou- 
logne and  the  Champs  Elysees,  where  we  were  living  at 
that  time,  were  crowded  with  splendid  equipages.  I 
remember  often  seeing  the  Empress  Eugenie,  then  the 
handsomest  woman  in  Europe,  driving  in  her  daumont, 
the  green  and  gold  liveries  of  the  postilions  and  out- 

6 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

riders  making  a  brave  show.  Nor  were  four  horses  and 
postihons  the  privilege  of  royalty  alone.  Princess  Met- 
ternich,  the  wife  of  the  Austrian  Ambassador,  often 
went  out  in  similar  style.  The  beautiful  Madame  de 
Canisy,  and  the  Duchesse  de  Mouchy,  the  Empress's 
greatest  and  perhaps  only  intimate  friend,  and  a  host  of 
court  ladies  habitually  drove  out  in  great  state,  and 
helped  by  the  magnificence  of  their  appearance  to  give 
to  Paris  that  air  of  elegance  and  distinction  which 
could  neither  be  surpassed  nor  emulated  by  any  other 
capital  in  Europe.  Even  among  those  who  had  fore- 
bodings of  the  gathering  storm,  no  one  had  descried  the 
black  shadow  cast  on  the  blue  sky  by  the  approaching 
figure  of  Bellona,  her  fierce  eyes  fixed  on  happy,  smil- 
ing, tranquil  France. 

Although  I  was  not  old  enough  to  go  into  society, 
being  still  troubled  with  governesses,  the  echoes  of  the 
Tuileries  fetes  and  of  the  gay  social  life  of  Paris  were 
heard  in  our  house,  and  eagerly  listened  to  by  my  cu- 
rious and  greedy  ears.  The  Emperor  Napoleon  III  was 
credited  with  a  great  liking  for  Americans,  and  he  cer- 
tainly showed  his  partiality  by  having  many  invited  to 
the  official  festivities.  Among  them  was  my  eldest  sis- 
ter, who  made  her  debut  at  one  of  the  Tuileries  balls. 
Notwithstanding  her  awe  at  the  magnificence  of  the 
palace,  and  her  confusion  at  having  to  walk  up  the 
grand  staircase  between  the  Cent- Gardes  in  her  first  low 
frock,  she  was  able  to  give  me  afterward  a  graphic  de- 
scription of  the  scene,  which  made  a  deep  impression  on 
me.  Unlike  the  procedure  at  the  Court  of  St.  James, 
no  procession  was  formed.  When  the  company  was 
assembled,  the  doors  were  flung  open,  and  "Sa  Majeste 

9 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

VEmpereur"  was  announced.  Then  after  a  pause,  ''Sa 
Majeste  VlTrfperatricer  who  that  evening  appeared  a 
resplendent  figure  in  green  velvet,  with  a  crown  of  eme- 
ralds and  diamonds,  spiked  v^ith  pearls,  on  her  small  and 
beautifully  shaped  head.  The  Emperor  and  Empress 
walked  round  the  circle  of  courtesying  and  bowing  guests, 
addressing  a  few  words  here  and  there,  and  then  pro- 
ceeded to  the  ball-room.  Besides  the  great  functions  at 
the  palace,  smaller  and  more  informal  dances  were  given. 
These  were  the  ijetits  Lundis,  which  had  been  insti- 
tuted ten  years  before,  and  at  which  the  Prince  Imperial, 
although  only  a  boy,  was  allowed  to  appear  and  amuse 
himself,  perhaps  with  a  view  to  forming  his  manners, 
and  giving  him  that  ease  in  society  in  which  foreign  roy- 
alties excel.  All  the  most  beautiful  and  charming  women 
of  Paris,  including  many  attractive  foreigners,  were 
asked.  Court  ceremonial  and  etiquette  were  dispensed 
with,  which  added  greatly  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  eve- 
ning. After  one  of  these  petits  Lundis,  which  had  been 
unusually  animated  (owing  to  its  being  Twelfth  Night, 
when  a  magnificent  "Gateau  des  Rois,"  with  presents 
for  the  ladies,  had  been  the  event  of  the  evening), 
Count  Hatzf  eldt,  late  German  Ambassador  to  England, 
who  was  then  Secretary  to  the  Embassy  in  Paris,  and  a 
frequenter  of  our  salon,  prophetically  sounded  the  first 
note  of  trouble  to  come.  "I  never  saw  their  Majesties  in 
better  spirits  than  they  were  last  night,"  he  remarked, 
"and  God  knows  where  they  will  be  next  year  at  this 
time."  In  the  light  of  subsequent  events,  we  were  much 
impressed  by  his  having  said  this,  although  I  cannot  be- 
lieve that  he  really  knew  much. 

The  celebrated  beauties,  most  of  them  in  the  zenith  of 

10 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

their  fame,  with  whom  the  Empress  loved  to  surround 
herself,  and  whose  portraits  adorned  the  walls  of  her 
boudoir  in  the  Tuileries,  were  conspicuous  at  these  small 
dances.  The  Marquise  de  Gallifet,  wife  of  the  General, 
and  her  sister  Madame  Cordier,  formerly  Mesdemoi- 
selles  Lafitte,  one  fair,  the  other  dark,  would  sometimes 
dress  alike,  making  a  lovely  contrast.  The  Comtesse  de 
Pourtales,  whose  bewitching  face  and  fascinating  man- 
ner won  all  hearts,  also  concerned  herself  so  seriously 
with  politics  that  she  became  the  social  link  between  the 
two  camps  of  Legitimists  and  Bonapartists.  Comte  de 
Pourtales,  being  of  Swiss  origin,  had  no  compunction  in 
becoming  an  Imperialist,  and  they  were  great  favorites 
at  the  Tuileries.  Madame  de  Pourtales  later  showed  her 
gratitude  and  devotion  to  the  fallen  monarchs  by  inter- 
ceding for  them  with  M.  Thiers  for  the  restoration  of 
some  of  their  property.  Having  visited  them  at  Chisel- 
hurst  in  the  dark  year  of  1873,  and  realizing  their  pov- 
erty, which  was  known  to  few,  Madame  de  Pourtales 
never  rested  till  she  had  succeeded  in  her  task. 

As  a  girl  I  remember  seeing  her  at  the  opera,  a  vision 
of  beauty  in  a  cloud  of  tulle,  with  her  soft  brown  hair, 
lovely,  exjDressive  eyes,  and  radiant  smile.  Later,  when 
as  a  married  woman  I  had  the  pleasure  of  knowing  her, 
I  always  found  a  pleasant  welcome  at  her  house  in  the 
rue  Tronchet,  on  my  visits  to  Paris ;  and  from  the  charm 
of  her  beauty  and  personality,  and  the  vivacity  of  her 
conversation,  could  easily  understand  the  sway  she  held 
over  society.  To  this  day,  although  a  grandmother  of 
many  years'  standing,  she  is  still  a  beautiful  woman,  and 
no  Frenchman  can  speak  of  "La  belle  Melanie''  without 
saying,  "Elle  est  etonnante/'    For  so  many  years  did 

11 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

these  beautiful  women  reign  supreme  that  envious  rivals 
christened  them  "La  vieille  Garde"  perverting  the  old 
saying  with  malicious  aptness. 

At  this  period  Princesse  Mathilde,  who  had  a  fine 
house  in  the  rue  de  Courcelles,  used  to  give  cotillions,  at 
which  the  colletmonte  and  aristocratic  families  made 
their  appearance  in  greater  numbers  than  at  the  Tui- 
leries :  the  noble  faubourg,  satisfied  that  her  mother  was 
a  Princess  of  Wiirtemberg,  while  her  uncle  was  the 
Czar  Nicholas  I,  did  not  look  upon  her  as  a  parvenu  and 
an  interloper. 

Princesse  Mathilde,  undoubtedly  the  most  brilliant 
and  intelligent  woman  of  the  Second  Empire,  had  done 
the  honors  at  the  Elysee,  in  1848,  for  her  cousin  Louis 
Napoleon,  then  President  of  the  Republic.  Her  mar- 
riage to  Count  Anatole  DemidoiF,  Prince  of  San  Do- 
nato,  had  not  been  a  success  as  every  one  knows,  and 
after  some  scenes  of  great  violence  on  his  part,  she  sepa- 
rated from  him,  supported  in  this  step  by  her  uncle 
Nicholas  I,  who  also  forced  his  subject  Count  DemidoiF 
to  give  her  a  large  income,  which  it  is  said  amounted  in 
the  course  of  sixty  years  to  twelve  million  francs. 

The  Princess  loved  to  surround  herself  with  all  those 
possessing  wit  or  talent,  and  her  salon  had  a  world-wide 
reputation,  comparing  easily  with  the  famous  salons  of 
the  eighteenth  century,  with  the  added  attraction  and 
glamour  of  royalty  and  great  wealth.  That  these 
sacred  portals  were  opened  for  anything  so  frivolous  as 
a  dance  was  to  please  the  Prince  Imperial  and  the  Em- 
press's nieces,  the  Mesdemoiselles  d'Albe.  It  was  there 
that  some  of  the  young  and  pretty  Americans  in  Paris, 
including  my  sister,  now  Mrs.  Moreton  Frewen,  had 

12 


MISS  JENNIIi  JIiRuMi;,  AS  A  \  I\  AN  DIHRK.  AT  TUN  YEARS  OI-    AGE 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

the  privilege  of  meeting  such  men  as  Dumas,  Sardou, 
Theophile  Gautier,  Baudry,  and  many  other  habitues 
of  the  house. 

Among  the  celebrated  women  of  Eugenie's  circle  none 
took  so  prominent  a  place  as  Princess  Pauline  Metter- 
nich,  the  wife  of  the  Austrian  Ambassador.  Though  she 
was  only  twenty-two  when  she  first  arrived  in  Paris  in 
1860,  her  wit,  vivacity,  and  extraordinary  "chic"  (the 
only  word  which  really  describes  her)  placed  her  at  once 
among  the  leaders  of  what  was  undoubtedly  the  most 
brilliant  court  in  Europe.  Her  life  is  too  well  known 
for  me  to  dilate  on  it,  her  repartees  and  bon  mots 
were  on  every  one's  lips,  her  dresses  were  the  models  all 
tried  to  copy,  and  her  company  was  eagerly  sought  for 
by  the  greatest  in  the  land.  Apart  from  other  interests, 
her  predilection  for  the  stage  was  perhaps  her  ruling 
passion.  She  was  never  so  happy  as  when  organizing 
theatricals,  and  she  was  the  ruling  spirit  of  all  the  enter- 
tainments of  that  kind  given  at  Compiegne,  where, 
whether  as  a  black  devil  dancing  in  a  ballet  before  the 
whole  court,  or  dressed  as  a  coachman  singing  sprightly 
verses,  she  was  the  cynosure  of  all  eyes.  Her  success 
was  enhanced  by  the  fact  that  Octave  Feuillet  wrote  the 
verses,  while  Viollet-le-Duc  was  stage-manager.  Not- 
withstanding these  frivolities.  Princess  JNIetternich  al- 
ways remained  grande  dame.  After  the  fall  of  the  Em- 
pire, on  returning  to  Vienna,  she  took  her  legitimate 
place  at  court,  where  she  soon  gained  the  same  social 
ascendancy  that  she  had  held  for  ten  years  in  the  French 
capital.  A  real  patron  of  art  and  music,  it  was  owing 
entirely  to  her  influence,  as  is  well  known,  that  "Tann- 
hauser"  was  given  in  Paris  in  18G1,  although  it  was  a 

15 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

gigantic  failure.  The  French  not  having  aspired  in 
those  days  to  anything  so  complex  as  Wagner,  it  must 
be  put  down  to  her  credit  that  she  understood  and  appre- 
ciated him  twenty  years  before  they  did/  Smetana's 
"Verkaufte  Braut,"  given  in  London  for  the  first  time 
in  1907,  was  brought  out  in  Vienna  some  years  ago 
under  the  auspices  of  Princess  Metternich, 

In  1888  the  Viennese  wrote  a  couplet  in  her  honor 
which  runs : 

Es  giebt  nur  a  Kalserstadt; 

Es  giebt  nur  a  Wien ; 

Es  giebt  nur  a  Fiirstin : 

Es  is  die  Metternich  Paulin. 

The  following  letter,  which  I  received  from  her  apro- 
pos of  the  "Puppenfee,"  which  I  wanted  to  give  in  Lon- 
don, proves  what  a  born  stage-manager  she  was.  Her 
directions  are  most  clear  and  lucid,  and  show  how  great 
an  interest  she  still  takes  in  theatrical  matters : 


LETTER  FROM   PRINCESSE  METTERNICH 

ViENNE,  le  8  Juin,  1891. 
Chere  Lady  Randolph, 

Je  re^ois  a  I'instant  la  lettre  dans  laquelle  vous  me  faites  part 
de  votre  desir  de  representer  la  pantomime  ballet  "Puppenfee" 
pour  une  oeuvre  de  charite  mondaine.  J'en  suis  tres  flattee  car 
c'est  nous  qui  en  sommes  les  auteurs,  la  "Puppenfee"  ayant  ete 
donnee  pour  la  premiere  fois  chez  nous  a  la  campagne  en 
Boheme.  Je  vais  demander  au  maitre  de  ballet  de  I'Opera  de 
m'envoyer  le  libretto  avec  toutes  les  indications  voulues.     Quant 

^See  "Les  Femmes  du  Second  Empire,"  by  F.  Loliee. 

16 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

aux  costumes  rien  de  plus  simple,  car  vous  pouvez  prendre  tout 
ce  que  vous  voulez.  II  faudra  seulement  pour  les  pas  seuls,  avoir 
une  Japonaise,  une  Espagnole,  une  Styrienne  ou  Tyrolienne,  une 
Chinoise  et  un  bebe,  de  ceux  qui  disent  "Papa"  et  "Maman." 
Pour  le  reste,  laissez  libre  cours  a  votre  fantaisie.  Le  reveil  des 
poupees  s'opere  au  coup  de  minuit  lorsque  le  magasin  est  ferme, 
et  quand,  reveillee  par  le  sabbat,  la  marchande  arrive,  elle  s'eva- 
nouit  de  frayeur,  ayant  ete  entrainee  dans  les  rondes  folles  des 
poupees  devenues  vivantes.  En  revenant  de  son  evanouissement 
elle  trouve  tout  rentre  en  bon  ordre,  et  les  poupees  sont  re- 
devenues  immobiles.  Albrs  la  marchande  s'avance  vers  la  rampe 
et  fait  comprendre  par  gestes  aux  spectateurs  qu'elle  a  ete 
evidemment  le  j  ouet  d'un  reve ! 

Le  sujet  est  bien  simple,  comme  vous  voyez,  et  il  n'a  pas  fallu 
beaucoup  d'imagination  pour  le  trouver ! 

Recevez,  chere  Lady  Randolph,  I'assurance  de  mes  sentiments 

les  meilleurs  et  les  plus  aff  ectueux. 

P.  Mettebnich. 


Foremost  among  the  social  lights  of  the  Second  Em- 
pire was  Boson  de  Talleyrand  Perigord — Prince  de 
Sagan — now  Due  de  Talleyrand.  With  the  Due  de 
Morny  and  the  celebrated  Count  Gramont-Caderousse, 
he  kej^t  Paris  society  in  a  ferment  of  amazement  and 
excitement.  His  name,  his  fetes,  and  his  extravagances 
were  on  all  lips.  When  I  first  met  the  Prince  after  the 
war,  in  1872,  he  must  have  been  about  forty-five.  He 
was  a  remarkable-looking  man,  with  snow-white,  curly 
hair,  which  stood  out  like  a  lion's  mane,  and  through 
which  he  had  a  habit  of  passing  his  fingers.  With  a  well 
set-up  figure,  irreproachable  clothes,  a  white  carnation 
in  his  buttonhole,  and  an  eye-glass  to  which  was  at- 
tached a  black  moire  ribbon  wliich  became  the  fashion, 

17 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

he  was  undoubtedly  the  ideal  Parisian  beau,  le  dernier 
cri.  As  such  he  was  caricatured  in  the  press  and  on  the 
stage  ad  infinitum.  A  kindly  man,  he  deserved  a  better 
fate  than  was  meted  out  to  him  in  his  domestic  circle, 
where  his  differences  with  the  Princess  were  for  many 
years  public  property.  A  descendant  of  the  famous 
diplomat,  the  Marquis  de  Talleyrand,  he  was  heir  to  a 
dukedom  and  vast  estates  in  Germany  as  well  as  in 
France,  where  he  owned  the  historical  Chateau  de 
Valan9ay  on  the  Loire.  Although  he  did  not  succeed  to 
his  estates  until  stricken  in  years  and  in  health,  he  had 
already  anticipated  most  of  his  inheritance,  and  had  dis- 
sipated enormous  sums. 

He  was  the  originator  of  the  Auteuil  race-course  and 
the  Cercle  de  la  rue  Royale.  He  was  a  patron  of  the 
drama,  and  many  artists  owed  their  success  to  his  timely 
aid.  If  he  had  faults,  he  was,  I  fancy,  as  much  sinned 
against  as  simiing.  Struck  down  with  an  attack  of 
paralysis,  he  was  taken  by  the  irony  of  fate  to  his  wife's 
house,  where  he  had  not  lived  for  many  years  and  which 
he  had  sworn  never  to  re-enter.  He  is  still  living  there, 
the  Princess  having  died  a  few  years  ago.  Many  a  pleas- 
ant party  did  he  organize  for  my  sister  and  me.  I  also 
remember  a  picnic  to  St.  Germain  when,  as  Mr.  James 
Gordon  Bennett  was  driving  us  back  on  his  coach,  we 
came  to  grief  near  the  Arc  de  Triomphe  and  were  nearly 
killed.  I  used  sometimes  to  ride  with  my  father  and  the 
Prince  in  the  Bois.  Mounted  on  a  seemingly  fiery  chest- 
nut, I  fancied  myself  vastly. 

In  the  month  of  November,  1869,  the  Empress  went 
to  Egypt  to  open  the  Suez  Canal ;  the  Emperor  for  state 
reasons  remained  in  France.     The  imperial  progress 

18 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

created  the  greatest  enthusiasm.  Her  Majesty  left  Port 
Said  for  Ismaiha  on  board  the  Aigle,  which  had  been 
sumptuously  fitted  up  for  her ;  sixty  vessels  followed  in 
the  wake.  Cleopatra  sailing  up  the  "river  of  Cydnus"  to 
meet  Mark  Antony  in  all  the  color  and  glory  of  Eastern 
pomp  paled  in  comparison,  while  "for  her  own  person" 
Eugenie,  like  Cleopatra,  "beggared  all  description." 
The  most  lavish  expenditure  and  extraordinary  display 
marked  every  step.  All  vied  in  doing  honor  to  the  bril- 
liant and  beautiful  Empress  who,  imposing  and  serene, 
was  then  poised— for  a  final  moment,  had  she  but  known 
it — at  the  summit  of  her  fortune. 

The  late  Due  d'Albe,  her  favorite  nephew,  was  in  her 
suite,  and  related  to  me  a  few  years  ago  the  details  of 
this  wonderful  journey.  The  Empress,  as  she  stepped 
off  the  vessel  on  reaching  Ismailia,  found  all  the  car- 
riages awaiting  her  painted  in  the  imperial  colors,  with 
green  and  gold  liveries  and  the  gold  bees ;  and  even  her 
villa  there  was  furnished  in  facsimile  of  her  rooms 
at  the  Tuileries,  that  she  might  feel  "at  home."  I  be- 
lieve that  the  same  compliment  was  paid  to  Queen  Vic- 
toria when  she  and  the  Prince  Consort  visited  the  French 
court  in  1855  for  the  Exhibition. 

Verdi  composed  "Aida"  for  the  opening  of  the  Canal, 
and  in  honor  of  the  Empress,  who  was  present  at  the  first 
performance  in  Cairo. 

During  her  absence  in  Egypt,  the  Emperor  gave  what 
was  fated  to  be  the  last  of  his  famous  parties,  or  series  as 
they  were  called,  at  Compiegne,  at  which  Princesse  Ma- 
thilde  helped  to  do  the  honors.  It  was  much  smaller  than 
usual,  on  account  of  the  Emperor's  bad  health  and  poli- 
tical worries.    Among  those  invited  were  my  mother  and 

19 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

sister.  Hunting,  shooting,  and  dancing  were  some  of 
the  amusements  provided.  There  was  a  grande  chasse, 
or  stag  hunt,  on  the  first  day,  at  which  all  the  guests  ap- 
peared, riding  or  driving.  Those  who  hunted  wore  the 
royal  colors,  the  men  in  green  coats  and  the  gold  hunt 
buttons,  the  ladies  in  flowing  green  habits  and  three-cor- 
nered hats.  The  stag  on  this  occasion  was  brought  to 
bay  in  a  lake,  the  Prince  Imperial  giving  him  the  coup 
de  grace.  At  night  there  was  a  curee  aux  flamheauoc  in 
the  courtyard  of  the  chateau,  the  whole  party  assembling 
on  the  balconies  in  the  glare  of  the  innumerable  torches. 
The  carcass  of  the  deer  lay  in  the  center,  covered  with  its 
skin;  the  hallali  was  sounded;  at  a  signal  the  hounds 
were  unleashed,  and  in  a  moment  every  vestige  of  the 
stag  had  disappeared. 

The  next  day  an  expedition  was  organized  to  see  the 
Chateau  de  Pierref  onds,  a  distance  of  nine  or  ten  miles : 
the  party  went  in  chars-a-hancs  under  the  guidance  of 
M.  Viollet-le-Duc,  the  celebrated  architect,  who  had 
just  completed  its  restoration.  Compiegne,  where 
Joan  of  Arc  was  taken  prisoner,  and  which  was  rebuilt 
by  Louis  XV  and  decorated  by  Napoleon  I,  seemed 
modern  in  comparison  with  this  huge  castle,  with  its  bat- 
tlemented  walls  and  medieval  arrangements. 

After  a  tour  of  inspection  under  the  guidance  of 
Viollet-le-Duc,  the  day  ended  with  tea  in  the  beautiful 
armory  of  the  castle  from  which  the  Emperor  presented 
each  lady  with  a  souvenir  in  the  shape  of  a  small  weapon. 

One  day  there  was  a  Cabinet  Council,  and  the  guests 
were  exhorted  to  be  discreet  in  their  amusements  and  not 
disturb  his  Majesty.  Who  knows  what  fateful  ques- 
tions were  discussed?    Times  were  disquieting,  and  the 

20 


MRS.  LUOXARD  JHKOME,  MOTHER  OF 
I. Any  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

pourparlers  going  on  with  Prussia  were  anything  but 
pleasant.  The  Government  was  in  direct  conflict  with 
the  Opposition.  Marechal  Bazaine,  who  had  come  from 
Paris  for  this  Council,  had  a  few  Aveeks  previously  made 
great  military  preparations  for  preventing  the  Opposi- 
tion members  from  meeting  to  fix  a  date  other  than  that 
settled  by  the  Government  for  the  assembling  of  the 
Chambers.  The  Emperor  himself,  anticipating  trouble, 
had  gone  to  Paris.  Fortunately  all  passed  off  quietly, 
and  the  troops  were  not  called  out.  But  it  gives  one  an 
idea  of  the  volcano  on  which  the  Empire  and  the  new 
OUivier  Ministry  were  living.  At  this  visit  to  Compiegne 
Bazaine  was  accompanied  by  his  wife,  a  Mexican  lady, 
who  created  a  sensation  by  appearing  in  a  gown  of  vivid 
scarlet  with  gloves  to  match.  This  was  thought  tres 
Anglais,  as  no  one  in  France  wore  such  brilliant  colors. 

Every  night  from  sixty  to  a  hundred  guests  sat  down 
to  dinner,  the  Emperor  never  permitting  it  to  last  more 
than  three  quarters  of  an  hour.  Sometimes  magnificent 
gold  plate  adorned  the  table,  sometimes  precious  biscuit 
de  Sevres.  Before  dinner  the  company  assembled  in  two 
long  lines.  The  Emperor  took  in  Princesse  JMathilde, 
sitting  opposite  her  at  the  center  of  the  table,  a  few  seats 
of  honor  being  reserved  on  each  side,  while  the  rest 
placed  themselves  as  they  wished,  the  ladies  choosing  the 
gentlemen  to  take  them  in,  according  to  the  custom  of 
Compiegne.  After  dinner  there  was  dancing,  in  which 
the  Prince  Imperial,  then  only  thirteen,  was  allowed  to 
join  till  ten  o'clock,  when  his  tutor  would  approach  him, 
saying,  "Monseigneur,  voire  chapeauf  which  meant 
going  to  bed.  At  the  close  of  the  visit  there  was  a  grand 
lottery  in  which  all  tickets  were  prizes.  The  Emperor 
'  23 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

stood  near  two  great  urns  from  which  the  numbers  were 
drawn,  and  as  each  guest  received  one  he  wished  him 
''Bonne  chance/'  Some  httle  juggling  must  have 
gone  on,  for  my  mother  and  the  American  minister,  Mr. 
Washburne,  won  valuable  pieces  of  Sevres  china,  where- 
as the  presents  for  the  younger  people  were  less  costly. 
My  sister,  much  to  my  envy,  was  given  an  inkstand 
shaped  like  a  knotted  handkerchief  filled  with  napoleons, 
upon  which  the  Emperor  remarked,  ''Mademoiselle^ 
n'ouhliez  pas  les  Napoleons!" 


24 


CHAPTER  II 

PARIS,   1870  — FRAI«f  CO-GERMAN  WAR 

IN  the  spring  of  1870  Paris  was  full  of  unrest  and 
rumors  of  war.  Prussia  on  several  occasions  had 
been  more  than  aggressive  and  had  heaped  insults 
on  France.  Prevost  Paradol,  the  brilliant  journalist  and 
writer,  whose  daughter  was  a  playfellow  of  mine,  de- 
scribed the  two  countries  as  "running  on  the  same  lines, 
collision  being  inevitable."  It  was  said  that  the  Em- 
peror was  credulous  and  that  Bismarck  was  unscrupu- 
lous; the  latter  wanted  war,  and  what  he  wished  gen- 
erally happened.  In  Prussia  also  disturbing  rumors  had 
been  rife  for  some  time ;  as  an  instance  of  this  a  story  is 
told  of  General  Blumenthal  shooting  in  Norfolk  in  1869 
with  Lord  Albemarle,  who  remarked  that  he  would  like 
to  see  the  Prussian  manoeuvers.  "It  is  not  necessary  to 
come  to  Prussia,"  said  the  General;  "we  will  have  a  re- 
view for  you  in  the  Champ-de-Mars." 

The  Hohenzollern  incident  was  the  last  straw,  and  it 
provoked  France  beyond  endurance.  Prince  Leopold  of 
Hohenzollern,  a  tool  of  Bismarck,  became  a  candidate 
for  the  throne  of  Spain.  It  was  looked  upon  as  "^une 
sanglante  injure  pour  VEmpereur  Napoleon."  Excited 
by  the  press,  the  whole  country  clamored  for  war.  Ac- 
cording to  liistory,  peace  might  have  been  maintained 
had  it  not  been  for  the  rashness  and  violence  of  the  Due 

25 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

de  Gramont,  then  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs,  and  the 
ineptitude  and  blunders  of  M.  Emile  OlHvier,  whose 
famous  phrase,  that  he  took  upon  himself  and  his  col- 
leagues the  responsibility  of  the  war  d'un  cceur  leger, 
will  ever  be  associated  with  his  memory.  Conciliation 
having  been  rendered  impossible,  on  the  19th  of  July, 
1870,  war  was  declared,  to  the  sorrow  of  the  Emperor, 
who,  very  ill  at  the  time  and  on  the  eve  of  a  jserious  opera- 
tion, had  done  all  he  could  to  avert  it.  I  shall  never  for- 
get the  excitement.  Crowds  paraded  the  streets  with 
cries  of  ''A  Berlin!"  The  war,  the  war — there  was  no 
other  topic.  Utter  strangers  would  stop  to  discuss  the 
situation.  The  confidence  in  the  generals  and  the  army 
was  immense.  It  was  to  be  one  long  but  straight  march 
to  Berlin;  not  a  soul  doubted  it.  Of  course  our  sym- 
pathies were  French,  and  I  felt  that  I  hated  ''Ces  sales 
Prussiens"  as  much  as  did  any  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
doomed  city. 

Exciting  incidents  crowded  on  us.  One  day  we  saw 
Capoul  the  celebrated  tenor,  and  Marie  Sass  of  the 
Opera,  on  being  recognized  in  an  omnibus,  made  to 
stand  on  the  top  and  sing  the  "Marseillaise,"  an  ever- 
growing crowd  joining  in  the  chorus.  One  night  we 
went  to  the  opera  in  walking  dresses,  with  our  hats  in 
our  hands,  in  case  there  was  any  trouble  and  we  might 
have  to  walk  home,  which  proved  to  be  the  case.  It  was 
a  strange  performance,  as  the  singers  were  constantly 
being  interrupted  and  made  to  sing  patriotic  songs.  We 
found  the  greatest  difficulty  in  getting  home,  owing  to 
the  streets  being  filled  with  huge  crowds  marching  to  the 
cry  of  ^'des  chassepots,  des  chassepots."  Poor  fellows, 
they  soon  had  them,  and  all  the  fighting  they  wanted. 

26 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

July  and  August  were  anxious  months  for  us.  With 
keen  interest  we  followed  with  maps  and  flags  the  in- 
cidents of  the  war.  One  day  the  Emperor  was  leaving 
Paris  for  Metz  to  join  his  army  of  380,000  men,  which, 
to  his  dismay,  proved  to  muster  only  220,000  badly 
equipped  troops.  Another  day  came;  it  was  the  details 
of  Saarbriick  and  the  bapteme  de  feu  of  the  Prince 
Imperial;  or,  again,  of  Marechal  Leboeuf's  resignation 
and  Marechal  Bazaine  being  made  Generalissimo,  which, 
according  to  ]M.  Barthelemy  Saint-Hilaire,  would  give 
confidence  to  the  country.  But,  alas !  news  of  fresh  de- 
feats was  continuous;  the  rapidity  with  which  disaster 
after  disaster  befell  the  French  army  seemed  incredible. 

Soon  our  maps  of  France  were  bristling  with  the 
hated  Prussian  flag,  and  one  heard  nothing  but  cries  of 
"Nous  sommes  trahis."  On  one  or  two  occasions  great 
victories  were  bruited  about;  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye 
the  whole  city  would  be  decorated,  flags  flying  from 
every  window,  and  signs  of  rejoicing  everywhere,  only 
to  be  taken  in  a  few  hours  later,  and  blinds  pulled  down, 
as  the  truth  filtered  out,  and  the  glorious  victory  became 
a  ghastly  defeat,  such  as  Weissemburg,  Worth,  or 
Gravelotte,  with  more  cries  of  betrayal  from  the  be- 
wildered Parisians. 

As  the  war  advanced,  all  the  foreigners  who  could 
leave  Paris  departed.  We  were  advised  to  go,  but  un- 
fortunately my  mother  was  laid  up  with  a  very  severe 
sprain,  and  could  not  put  her  foot  to  the  ground,  and  so 
we  tarried.  Besides,  we  were  incredulous  of  the  Prus- 
sians ever  reaching  Paris,  and  every  day  we  put  off  our 
departure.  Our  house  became  the  rendezvous  of  the  few 
of  our  French  friends  who  had  not  gone  to  the  front. 

27 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

Our  principal  visitor  was  the  Due  de  Persigny,  who, 
with  his  family,  had  been  on  intimate  relations  with  us 
for  some  years.  Persigny,  a  short,  dapper-looking  little 
man  with  a  piercing  eye  and  a  pleasant  manner,  was 
Louis  Napoleon's  bosom  friend  and  companion,  Victor 
Fialin.  He  shared  his  fortunes  at  Strasburg  in  1836 
and  at  Boulogne  in  1840.  Imprisoned  for  a  time  at 
Doullens,  when  released  he  took  an  important  part  in 
the  Coup  d'Etat.  He  reaped  the  benefit  of  his  devotion 
to  the  Bonapartist  cause  when  Louis  Napoleon  became 
Emperor.  His  Majesty,  when  describing  his  Ministry 
one  day,  said  laughingly:  "How  can  you  expect  my 
government  to  get  on?  The  Empress  is  a  Legitimist; 
Morny  is  an  Orleanist;  Prince  Napoleon  is  a  Repub- 
lican; I  am  a  Socialist— only  Persigny  is  an  Imperialist, 
and  he  is  mad!"  When  later  on  Persigny  was  made  a 
duke,  he  married  the  daughter  of  the  Prince  de  la  Mos- 
kowa,  whose  maternal  grandfather  had  been  the  famous 
Marechal  Ney. 

The  Duchesse  de  Persigny  was,  to  say  the  least  of  it, 
eccentric,  and  many  were  the  stories  related  of  her  while 
her  husband  was  Ambassador  to  England,  somewhere  in 
the  sixties.  Her  unpunctuality  was  notorious.  One 
evening  there  was  an  official  dinner  at  the  Embassy  for 
the  Lord  Mayor.  The  guests,  who  had  been  waiting 
some  time  for  her  appearance,  were  told  that  "Her  Grace 
was  in  her  bath,"  and  presently  she  appeared  with  her 
beautiful,  fair  hair  (of  which  she  was  very  proud)  still 
wet  and  hanging  down  her  back.  "Pardonnez  moi,  mes 
amis"  she  exclaimed  with  her  slight  stammer,  "c'est  cet 
imbecile  de  Persigny  qui  ne  m'a  pas  fait  dire  Vheure" 
The  Duchess's  temper  was  somewhat  quick ;  on  one  occa- 

28 


Due  UI-:  PERSIGNY 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

sion,  at  a  children's  dance  in  Paris,  I  have  a  vivid  recol- 
lection of  her  boxing  my  ears  because  I  could  not  dance 
the  mazurka. 

She  was  a  great  Anglomaniac,  and  Chamarande,  their 
country  place,  was  entirely  furnished  after  the  English 
fashion,  and  as  in  those  days  the  taste  was  early  Vic- 
torian it  was  not  attractive.  Several  rooms  were  copied 
from  Balmoral,  and  rejoiced  in  tartan  curtains  and  car- 
pets, at  which  the  art-loving  Frenchmen  opened  their 
eyes.  On  the  other  hand,  bedrooms,  with  their  Eng- 
lish writing-tables  and  comfortable  arm-chairs,  were  a 
revelation  of  what  such  rooms  should  be. 

In  August,  1870,  the  Empress — who  had  been  made 
Regent  and  was  living  at  St.-Cloud— was  often  visited 
by  M.  de  Persigny,  who  brought  us  all  the  latest  news 
which  grew  more  and  more  ominous  until  one  day  he 
rushed  in  crying,  "Tout  est  perdu;  les  Prussiens  sont  a 
nos  portesT  and  imploring  us  to  fly,  otherwise  it  would 
be  too  late.  With  much  difficulty  and  discomfort  and 
many  heartburnings  we  prepared  to  depart  and  go  to 
Deauville. 

Trains  were  running  most  irregularly  and  were  few 
and  far  between.  As  it  turned  out,  the  one  we  elected  to 
go  by  was  the  last  to  leave.  No  luggage  was  allowed  us 
but  what  we  could  carry.  A  few  clothes  were  tied  up  in 
sheets  and  table-cloths,  and  so  we  left.  My  mother  had 
to  be  carried,  as  she  was  too  lame  to  walk. 

While  at  Deauville  a  friend  of  ours,  M.  de  Gardonne, 
called  on  us  unexpectedly  at  the  hotel  and  asked  if  he 
might  spend  the  day  in  our  rooms — in  fact,  hide  there. 
He  begged  that  on  no  account  were  we  to  mention  his 
name  or  let  any  one  know  we  had  seen  him.    Naturally 

31 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

we  thought  this  very  strange,  and  my  mother  grew  sus- 
picious; but  he  impressed  upon  us  that  it  was  for  "state 
reasons,"  of  which  we  should  hear  later.  After  dinner, 
when  it  was  quite  dark,  he  departed  as  mysteriously  as 
he  had  come.  Two  days  later  we  were  thrilled  to  hear  of 
the  Empress's  escape  from  Paris,  accompanied  by  Dr. 
Crane,  Dr.  Evans  (the  American  dentist) ,  and  Madame 
Lebreton,  our  friend  M.  de  Gardonne  having  helped  to 
make  the  arrangements.  The  Empress  came  to  Deau- 
ville  unknown  to  all,  went  on  board  Sir  John  Burgoyne's 
yacht,  which  had  been  lying  in  the  harbor,  and  after  a 
rough  crossing  landed  at  Ryde  in  the  Isle  of  Wight. 
The  perils  of  this  flight,  less  hazardous  and  certainly 
more  successful  than  the  flight  of  Varennes,  have  been 
greatly  exaggerated. 

Meanwhile  the  Emperor,  after  Bazaine's  defeat  at 
Gravelotte  and  other  disasters,  repaired  to  Sedan,  where, 
after  the  battle,  on  his  own  authority,  he  raised  the  flag 
of  truce.  According  to  his  posthumous  memoirs,  Na- 
poleon III  "understood  the  gravity  of  the  responsibility 
which  he  was  incurring  and  foresaw  the  accusations  that 
would  be  raised  against  him."  As  an  example  of  these, 
the  letter  on  the  following  page,  which  I  have  in  my 
possession  from  General  Palikao,  his  late  Minister  of 
War,  is  of  interest. 

The  Comte  de  Palikao,  formerly  General  Moutau- 
ban,  took  part  in  the  1860  expedition  to  China.  He  was 
said  to  have  acquired  his  title  (the  name  Palikao  being 
derived  from  a  town  in  China)  from  the  fact  that  he  had 
presented  the  Empress  Eugenie  with  some  splendid 
black  pearls,  looted  during  the  sack  of  the  Summer 
Palace  in  Peking. 

32 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

OsTENDE,  Ic  21  Octobre,  1870. 

MON  CHER  Due, 

Je  suis  arrive  a  Ostende  depuis  quatre  jours,  et  j'y  ai  trouve 
votre  addresse  chez  nos  amis  communs  Ics  Durcau. 

Depuis  notre  separation  le  7emc,  je  suis  cn  Belgique  et  je 
vous  aurais  demande  de  vos  nouvelles  depuis  cette  epoque  si 
j'avais  su  oia  vous  envoyer  une  lettrc.  Je  saisis  done  avec  em- 
pressement  I'occasion  qui  m'est  offerte  par  la  rencontre  de  cet 
excellent  prefet  d'Orleans,  pour  venir  causer  quelques  instants 
avec  vous. 

Menace  le  jour  du  4  Septembre  dans  ma  liberte,  j'ai  quitte  le 
meme  soir,  et  je  suis  venu  me  refugier  d'abord  a  Namur  ou  j'ai 
ete  rejoint  par  ma  femme  et  mes  filles  24  heures  apres  mon  de- 
part. 

Le  but  principal  de  mon  voyage  a  Namur  etait  de  me  rap- 
procher  de  Sedan,  pour  savoir  le  sort  de  mon  fils  qui  me  donnait 
de  vives  preoccupations.  Apres  plusicurs  jours  de  recherches 
j?ai  fini  par  savoir  que  mon  fils,  apres  avoir  ete  blesse  a  Sedan, 
et  avoir  eu  un  cheval  tue,  etait  prisonnier  a  Cologne,  n'ayant 
pas  voulu  accepter  pour  son  compte  la  capitulation. 

J'ai  quitte  Nemours  pour  Spa;  ce  dernier  sejour  n'etant  plus 
habitable  pendant  I'hiver,  je  suis  venu  me  fixer  a  Ostende  pour 
attendre  les  evenements  dont  je  ne  puis  prevoir  Tissue. 

Combien  je  voudrais,  mon  cher  Due,  avoir  une  plume  assez 
habile  pour  vous  retracer  toutes  les  impressions  par  lesquelles 
j'ai  passe  depuis  ce  fatal  Sedan.  Je  suis  venu  a  me  demander 
comment  un  pareil  desastre  a  pu  se  produire,  sans  que  le  princi- 
pal auteur  de  ce  lugubre  drame  ne  se  soit  pas  enseveli  sous  les 
cadavres  de  son  armee ! 

Je  croyais  qu'il  etait  plus  facile  de  mourir  que  de  se  des- 
honorer.   .   .   . 

La  mort  de  I'Empereur  a  Sedan  sauvait  et  la  France  et  son 
fils,  la  capitulation  a  tout  perdu. 

33 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

Aujourd'hui  que  la  France  est  devenue  la  proie  des  Vandales 
etrangeres  et  de  I'interieur,  comment  pourra  se  terminer  cette 
desolation  de  notre  malheureux  pays ! — a  moins  d'une  guerre 
generale,  qui  devrais  apporter  une  diversion  dans  la  politique 
prussienne,  je  ne  vois  pas  de  quel  cote  nous  pourrons  nous 
tourner.  L'Angleterre  parait  nous  avoir  abandonnee,  et 
cependant  les  circonstances  qui  avaient  cimentees  notre  alliance 
de  1856,  peuvent  se  reproduire  pour  Elle,  mais  alors  elle  ne 
pourra  plus  compter  sur  notre  concours.  Nous  sommes  tombes 
bien  bas ! 

J'avais  offert  mes  services  au  gouvernement  de  la  defense  na- 
tionale  mais  j  'ai  retire  mes  ofFres  des  que  j  'ai  vu  le  gouvernement 
appeler,  a  la  honte  eternelle  de  la  France,  un  Garibaldi  pour  la 
defendre. 

D'un  autre  cote  les  accusations  de  trahison  atteignent  tous 
les  generaux  qui  ont  servi  I'Empire,  je  n'ai  pas  voulu  meler  ftion 
nom  a  toutes  ccs  ignominies. 

Adieu,  mon  clier  Due,  si  vous  voulez  me  donner  de  vos  nou- 
velles,  ma  famille  et  moi  nous  en  serons  bien  heureux  .  .  .  car 
nous  avons  tous  la  reconnaissance  du  coeur. 

Tout  a  vous, 

General  de  Palikao. 


In  view  of  this  somewhat  cruel  letter,  I  cannot  refrain 
from  quoting  General  Changarnier,  who,  although  at 
one  time  hostile  to  the  Emperor,  spoke  of  him  thus: 
.  .  .  "And  he  has  been  called  'Coward'!  When  I  re- 
member that  this  man,  tortured  by  a  horrible  disease, 
remained  on  horseback  at  Sedan  an  entire  day,  watching 
disappear  the  prestige  of  France,  his  throne,  his  dynasty, 
and  all  the  glory  reaped  at  Sebastopol  and  in  Lombardy, 
I  cannot  control  myself." 

34 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

And  again,  Colonel  Fabre  says:  "The  Emperor  re- 
mained passively  for  two  hours  mider  the  fire  of  shells, 
seeing  many  of  his  officers  killed  romid  him,  before  he 
reentered  Sedan." 

In  October,  not  being  able  to  return  to  Paris,  we  mi- 
grated to  England,  which  I  now  saw  for  the  first  time. 
A  winter  spent  in  the-  gloom  and  fogs  of  London  did 
not  tend  to  dispel  the  melancholy  which  we  felt.  Our 
friends  scattered,  fighting,  or  killed  at  the  front;  de- 
barred as  we  were  from  our  bright  little  house  and  our 
household  gods,  it  was  indeed  a  sad  time. 

Among  the  refugees  who  came  to  London  was  the 
Due  de  Persigny.  Broken-hearted,  ill,  and  j)enniless, 
our  poor  friend  was  put  to  many  straits  to  eke  out  a  liv- 
ing, selling  his  plate  and  the  little  he  had  been  able  to 
bring  away  with  him.  His  devotion  to  Napoleon  III 
never  altered,  although  the  Emperor  was  often  irritated 
with  him  and  evidently,  from  the  following  letter, 
thought  he  interfered  indiscreetly : 

WiLHELMSHOHE,  Ic  7  Janvier,  18T1. 
MoN  CHER  Persigny, 

J'ai  re9u  votre  lettre  du  1  Janvier,  et  je  vous  remer^ie  des 
voeux  que  vous  faites  pour  un  raeilleur  avenir.  Sans  vouloir 
entrer  dans  la  discussion  des  idees  que  vous  emettez,  je  vous  di- 
rai  que  rien  de  bon  ne  pent  sortir  de  cette  confusion  qui  resulte 
d'efforts  individuels,  faits  sans  discretion  et  sans  autorisation. 
Je  trouve  en  effet  singulier  qu'on  s'occupe  de  I'avenir  de  mon  fils 
sans  se  preoccuper  de  mes  intentions. 

Je  sais  que  vous  avez  ecrit  a  M.  de  Bismarck  qui  m'a  naturcllc- 
inent  fait  demander  si  cela  etait  avcc  mon  autorisation  et  comme 

35 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

etant  d'accord  avec  moi.  Je  lui  ai  fait  repondre  que  je  n'avals 
autorise  personne  a  s'occuper  de  mes  interets  et  de  ceux  de  mon 
fils  sans  mon  consentement. 

Croyez,  mon  cher  Persigny,  a  mon  amitie, 

Napoleon. 


The  letter  was  written  from  Wilhelmshohe  and  given 
to  me  by  M.  de  Persigny  as  an  autograph  of  the  Em- 
peror, the  Duke  adding  at  the  same  time  that  it  com- 
promised no  one  but  himself. 

There  is  good  reason  to  beHeve  that  the  letter  referred 
to  a  scheme  for  placing  the  Prince  Imperial  on  the 
throne  during  the  Emperor's  captivity,  with  the  Em- 
press as  Regent. 

Persigny  died  in  1872,  preceding  by  one  year  his  im- 
perial master. 

That  autumn  and  winter  (1870-71)  London  society 
was  much  entertained  and  a  little  scandalized  by  the 
doings  and  sayings  of  two  pretty  and  lively  refugees 
from  Paris.  The  Duchesse  de  Carracciolo  and  the  Com- 
tesse  de  Bechevet,  with  their  respective  husbands  and  a 
few  Frenchmen  who  preferred  shooting  birds  in  Eng- 
land to  being  shot  at  in  France,  took  a  place  in  the  coun- 
try. Many  were  the  stories  told  of  practical  jokes  and 
unorthodox  sporting  incidents,  the  ladies  astonishing  the 
country  yokels  by  shooting  in  kilts  and  smoking  cigar- 
ettes, a  thing  unheard  of  in  those  days.  All  London 
laughed  at  the  misfortunes  of  M.  de  Bechevet,  who,  be- 
ing ill,  was  persuaded  by  one  of  the  guests,  admirably 
disguised  as  a  doctor,  that  he  was  dying.  Another  guest, 
travestied  as  a  priest,  received  his  last  confession,  which 
was  eagerly  listened  to  by  the  rest  of  the  party,  hidden 

36 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

behind  curtains,  their  peals  of  laughter  resuscitating  the 
dying  man. 

While  we  were  in  London,  and  during  the  siege,  my 
father,  who  had  just  arrived  from  America,  arranged  to 
go  to  Paris  with  General  Sheridan.  They  got  permis- 
sion to  see  Mr.  Washburne,  the  American  Minister,  who 
had  been  through  the  whole  siege.  They  were  blind- 
folded and  taken  through  the  Prussian  lines,  and  a  few 
days  later  saw  the  great  columns  of  the  victorious  army 
roll  down  the  Champs-Elysees.  My  father  on  his  return 
gave  me  a  graphic  description  of  the  triumphal  entry 
and  of  the  vivid  scene  impressed  on  him — how  the  masses 
of  infantry,  most  of  them  wearing  spectacles,  marched 
by  the  Arc  de  Triomphe,  which  was  barricaded,  and 
through  the  deserted  streets  of  the  once  gay  city  singing 
"Die  Wacht  am  Rhein."  Many  were  the  stories  of  in 
dividual  suffering  and  despair,  of  hair-breadth  escapes 
and  brave  deeds,  told  him  by  the  besieged. 

That  summer  I  paid  a  first  visit  to  Cowes.  In  those 
days  it  was  delightfully  small  and  peaceful.  No  glori- 
fied villas,  no  esplanade  or  pier,  no  bands  or  "nigger 
minstrels,"  no  motors  or  crowded  tourist  steamers — "no 
nothing,"  as  the  children  say.  The  Royal  Yacht  Squad- 
ron Club  lawn  did  not  resemble  a  perpetual  garden 
party,  or  the  roadstead  a  perpetual  regatta.  Yachts 
went  in  and  out  without  fear  of  losing  their  moorings, 
and  most  of  them  belonged  to  the  Royal  Yacht  Squad- 
ron. People  all  seemed  to  know  one  another.  The 
Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales  and  many  foreign  royal- 
ties could  walk  about  and  amuse  themselves  without 
being  photograj)hed  or  mobbed,  and  many  were  the  gay 
Httle  expeditions  to  Shanklin  Bay,  Freshwater,  or  Beau- 

37 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

lieu,  where  they  threw  off  all  ceremony  and  enjoyed 
themselves  like  ordinary  mortals. 

Ever  since  those  early  days  Cowes  has  always  had  so 
great  an  attraction  for  me  that,  notwithstanding  its 
gradual  deterioration,  I  have  rarely  missed  a  yearly  visit. 
My  first  ball  in  1873  was  at  the  Royal  Yacht  Squadron 
Castle,  an  entertainment  long  since  abandoned,  but  then 
an  annual  event  during  the  Cowes  regatta  week.  It  was 
there  that  I  had  the  honor  of  being  presented  to  the 
present  King  and  Queen,  and  made  the  acquaintance  of 
Lord  Randolph  Churchill. 

In  August,  1871,  the  Emperor  Napoleon  III  and  the 
Empress  Eugenie,  who  were  living  at  Camden  House, 
Chiselhurst,  came  to  Cowes  on  a  short  visit.     One  day 
a  gentleman  called,  but  finding  us  out,  left  a  card  saying 
he  would  come  again.     "Le  Comte  de  Pierrefonds" — 
who  could  it  be  ?    We  asked  the  Empress's  private  secre- 
tary, M.  Pietri.    "Mais  cest  VE7npereurf'  he  said  laugh- 
ing.    Shortly  afterward  we  were  asked  by  their  Maj- 
esties to  go  for  an  expedition  round  the  Island.     The 
party   consisted   of   the   Emperor   and    Empress,    the 
Prince  Imperial,  the  Empress's  nieces  the  Mesdemoi- 
selles  d'Albe  (afterwards  Duchesse  de  Medina  Coeli and 
Marquise  de  Tamamis),  and  Prince  Joachim  Murat,  the 
Due  d'Albe  (Carlos),  a  few  Spaniards,  and  the  suite, 
which  was  composed  of  one  or  two  faithful  followers. 
The  expedition  was  rather  a  failure,  owing  to  the  rough- 
ness of  the  sea,  most  of  the  party  seeking  "the  seclusion 
that  the  cabin  grants."     The  Mesdemoiselles   d'Albe 
were  desperately  ill,  and  lay  on  the  deck  in  a  state  of 
coma.      But   the   Empress   enjoyed   the   breeze.     The 
Prince  Imperial,  full  of  life  and  spirits,  chaffed  every 

38 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

one,  some  of  his  jokes  falling  rather  flat  on  the  Span- 
iards, who  were  feeling  anything  but  bright,  and  evi- 
dently thought  it  no  laughing  matter.  I  can  see  now  the 
Emperor  leaning  against  the  mast,  looking  old,  ill,  and 
sad.  His  thoughts  could  not  have  been  other  than  sor- 
rowful, and  even  in  my  young  eyes  he  seemed  to  have 
nothing  to  live  for. 

After  two  years'  absence  (having  left  for  two  weeks,  as 
we  thought  at  the  time),  we  returned  to  Paris,  to  find 
our  house,  goods,  and  chattels  intact,  with  the  exception 
of  the  cellar,  which  had  been  visited  by  a  shell  from 
Mont  Valerien.  But  what  changes  in  Paris  itself! 
Ruins  everywhere:  the  sight  of  the  Tuileries  and  the 
Hotel  de  Ville  made  me  cry.  St.-Cloud,  the  scene  of 
many  pleasant  expeditions,  was  a  thing  of  the  past,  the 
lovely  chateau  razed  to  the  ground.  And  if  material 
Paris  was  damaged,  the  social  fabric  was  even  more  so. 
In  vain  we  tried  to  pick  up  the  threads.  Some  of  our 
friends  were  killed,  others  ruined  or  in  mourning,  and 
all  broken-hearted  and  miserable,  hiding  in  their  houses 
and  refusing  to  be  comforted. 

The  statues  at  the  Place  de  la  Concorde  representing 
the  most  important  towns  of  France,— Strasburg,  Lille, 
Nancy,  Orleans,— swathed  in  crape,  in  which  some  are 
still  draped  on  the  anniversary  of  Sedan,  reminded  one 
daily,  if  one  had  needed  it,  of  the  trials  and  tribulations 
France  had  just  gone  through.  Only  the  embassies  and 
a  few  foreigners,  principally  Americans,  received  or  en- 
tertained. The  Misses  King  (one  of  them  became  Mad- 
ame Waddington,  wife  of  tlie  Ambassador  to  England) 
gave  small  parties.    JNIrs.  John  JNIunroe,  the  wife  of  the 

39 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

American  banker,  also  gave  dances  for  her  daughters, 
who  eventually  married,  one  Mr.  Ridgeway,  well  known 
in  Paris  and  the  hero  of  Bourget's  "M.  Cazal,"  the  other 
Baron  Hottingue.  A  few  opened  their  houses,  but  the 
French  on  the  whole  were  shy  of  going  out  at  all,  and  if 
Paris  had  any  gaiety  left  in  those  days,  it  was  owing  to 
her  cosmopolitan  character.  As  time  has  gone  on,  with 
the  fall  of  the  Empire  and  the  advent  of  the  Republic, 
society  in  Paris  has  become  a  thing  of  the  past.  Broken 
up  into  small  coteries  and  cliques,  each,  a  law  unto  itself, 
thinks  the  others  beneath  contempt.  The  old  nobility, 
which  was  beginning  to  get  accustomed  to  the  Empire, 
and  was  peeping  shyly  out  of  its  faubourg,  has  retired 
into  it  more  pertinaciously  than  ever.  Where  there  is  no 
recognized  head  or  "fount  of  honor,"  so  to  speak,  there 
can  be  no  recognized  grades,  and  with  the  exception  of  a 
small  group,  Paris  society  in  the  present  day,  as  com- 
pared with  the  past,  is  like  a  ship  without  a  rudder. 

Among  our  compatriots  who  were  more  or  less  settled 
in  Paris,  our  greatest  friends  were  perhaps  the  Forbeses 
of  New  York.  Two  of  the  daughters  eventually  mar- 
ried Frenchmen,  one  the  Due  de  Praslin,  head  of  the 
house  of  Choiseul,  and  the  other  M.  Odilon  Barrot,  son 
of  Louis  Philippe's  Minister. 

My  sister  and  I  and  Countess  Hatzfeldt  were  once 
invited  by  the  Due  de  Praslin  to  visit  his  beautiful  Cha- 
teau of  Vaux-Praslin.  Our  host  took  us  all  over  the 
huge  building,  pointing  out  everything  of  historical  in- 
terest, until  we  came  to  an  ornamented  door,  before 
which  he  paused,  but  did  not  enter.  "La  chamhre  du  feu 
Due  de  Praslin''  he  said  in  a  grim  voice,  and  then  passed 
on.    This  was  the  room  of  the  late  Duke  his  father,  who 

40 


LEONARD  JEROME 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

had  murdered  his  wife,  a  deed  which  filled  the  civilized 
world  with  horror,  and  which  undoubtedly  precipitated 
the  revolution  of  1848.  The  Duchess's  unfounded  jeal- 
ousy of  their  French  governess  drove  the  Duke  to  this 
terrible  act.  On  our  way  home  we  discussed  the  details 
with  bated  breath — how  the  Duchess  had  first  been 
stabbed,  then  smothered  under  the  canopy  of  the  bed, 
which  the  Duke  pulled  down  on  her ;  how  the  Duke  was 
tried  by  his  peers  and  sentenced  to  death,  but  the  night 
before  the  execution  was  found  dead  in  his  cell,  friends 
having  smuggled  in  poison  to  him.  It  was  averred,  later, 
that  the  story  of  his  death  was  not  true,  and  that  in  real- 
ity he  had  escaped  and  lived  in  exile  for  many  years. 
At  the  trial  the  French  governess  pleaded  her  own  cause 
so  eloquently,  that  she  left  the  court  without  the  slight- 
est aspersion  on  her  character.  She  went  to  America 
and  married  the  Rev.  Henry  M.  Field,  brother  of  Cyrus 
W.  Field  of  Atlantic  Cable  fame.  By  the  way,  the  first 
time  the  cable  was  laid  by  the  Great  Eastern  it  broke  in 
mid-ocean,  and  my  father,  who  was  much  interested  in 
the  scheme,  lent  his  steam-yacht  the  Clara  Clarita 
which  went  out  and  recovered  it.  The  yacht  was  after- 
ward sold  to  the  Government.  I  remember  well  being 
taken,  as  a  great  treat,  on  the  yacht  on  its  trial  trip,  and 
my  poor  mother's  face  of  dismay  at  the  fittings  of  pale 
blue  velvet  and  silver!  My  father,  in  his  extravagant 
manner,  had  left  it  all  to  the  upholsterer. 

In  the  autumn  of  1873,  I  recollect  going  to  Ba- 
zaine's  trial  at  Versailles.  A  long,  low  room  filled  to 
suffocation  with  a  curious  crowd,  many  of  whom  were 
women,  a  raised  platform,  a  table  covered  with  green 
baize  and  holding  a  bottle  of  water,  a  few  chairs  ar- 

3  43 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

ranged  in  semicircles,  completed  the  mise-en-scene, 
which  seemed  rather  a  poor  one  for  the  trial  for  life  or 
death  of  a  Marshal  of  France.  The  Due  d'Amnale,  who 
was  president,  having  seated  himself  at  the  table,  Ba- 
zaine  was  brought  in.  All  eyes  turned  on  him,  and  some 
of  the  women  jumped  on  their  chairs,  leveling  their  op- 
era-glasses at  the  unfortunate  man.  This  was  promptly 
put  a  stop  to  by  the  gendarmes  present,  who  pulled  the 
offenders  down  unceremoniously  by  their  skirts.  ''Ft 
doner  I  heard  a  gendarme  say,  ''cest  pas  gentil";  nor 
was  it. 

Bazaine  sat  impassive  even  while  Maitre  Lachaud,  his 
advocate,  making  a  curious  defense  at  one  moment 
pointed  with  a  dramatic  gesture  to  the  accused,  exclaim- 
ing ''Mais,  regardez-le  done!  Ce  nest  pas  un  traitre, 
c'est  un  inibeeiler 

How  the  mighty  had  fallen!  I  thought  of  him  and 
his  wife  in  the  glittering  throng  of  Compiegne  only 
three  years  before,  and  of  him  again  as  commander-in- 
chief  of  a  huge  army,  which  now  he  was  supposed  to 
have  betrayed  and  sold.  I  say  supposed,  for  although 
he  was  found  guilty  and  condemned  to  death  (which 
was  commuted  to  twenty  years'  imprisonment)  there 
were  many  who  believed  in  him  and  thought  him  a  hero. 
His  permitted  escape  on  the  9th  of  August,  1874,  from 
the  He  Ste.  Marguerite  had  the  elements  of  the  gro- 
tesque about  it,  and  if  he  was  a  martyr,  I  doubt  if  pos- 
terity will  place  a  halo  round  his  head. 


44) 


CHAPTER  III 


MAERIAGE  AND  LONDON  LIFE 


i( 


T 


HE  course  of  true  love  never  runs  smooth,"  as 
we  all  know,  and  my  engagement  to  Lord  Ran- 
dolph Churchill  was  no  exception  to  the  rule. 
The  Duke  of  Marlborough,  my  prospective  father-in- 
law,  would  not  consent  to  our  marriage  until  Randolph 
had  got  into  Parliament.  Moreover,  the  wish  to  test  the 
stability  of  our  affections  may  not  improbably  have 
lurked  in  the  recesses  of  the  Duke's  mind,  for  I  am 
bound  to  admit  that  we  had  arrived  at  our  momentous 
decision  without  much  delay. 

During  the  year  of  our  engagement,  I  remained  with 
my  family  in  Paris  and  had  to  content  myself  with 
flying  visits  from  my  fiance,  with  whom,  however,  I  kept 
up  an  animated  correspondence.  He  tried  to  initiate 
me  in  the  mysteries  of  English  politics,  of  which  I  was 
at  that  time  in  blissful  ignorance.  I  looked  forward 
greatly  to  the  impending  General  Election,  which,  apart 
from  the  dignity  Randolph  was  to  acquire  by  becoming 
a  member  of  Parliament,  meant  the  end  of  our  long 
probation. 

In  one  of  Randolph's  letters  of  that  date  (1874<),  he 
says  in  speaking  of  Mr.  Disraeli,  for  whom  he  had  a 
profound  admiration : 

45 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

I  advise  you  to  get  a  copy  of  to-day's  "Times"  if  you  can, 
and  read  Disraeli's  great  speech.  He  has  made  a  magnificent 
one  to  the  Conservatives  of  Glasgow  ...  it  is  a  fine  specimen 
of  perfect  English  oratory. 

I  remember  in  our  letters  a  great  controversy  on  my 
having  used  the  word  "prorogued"  in  a  wrong  sense, 
apropos  of  Bazaine's  trial.  Much  to  Randolph's  indig- 
nation, I  had  quoted  in  my  defense  the  opinion  of  the 
Comte  de  Fenelon,  a  young  Frenchman  of  our  acquaint- 
ance whom  I  thought  in  virtue  of  his  descent,  a  good 
authority.    From  Blenheim,  Randolph  writes: 

.  .  .  Hang  le  petit  Fenelon  .  .  .  little  idiot !  What  do  I  care 
for  him — He  may  be  a  very  good  authority  about  his  own 
beastly  language  but  I  cannot  for  a  moment  submit  to  him 
about  English.  Whether  you  use  the  word  prorogation  as  a 
PVench  or  an  English  one  I  don't  know.  In  the  former  case,  as 
the  word  is  a  Latin  one  and  as  there  can  be  no  doubt  as  to  its 
meaning,  I  apprehend  you  are  wrong,  but  still  would  not  at- 
tempt to  lay  down  the  law  to  you  on  the  meaning  of  any  French 
word.  If  you  use  it  as  an  English  word  you  are  undoubtedly 
not  only  using  an  inaccurate  expression,  but  a  meaningless  and 
unintelligible  one.  To  prorogue,  means  to  suspend  something 
for  a  definite  time  to  be  resumed  again  in  exactly  the  same  state, 
condition,  and  circumstances.  Therefore  to  talk  about  pro- 
roguing the  Marshal's  powers,  would  mean  that  they  were  to 
be  suspended  for  a  certain  time  and  then  resumed  again  exactly 
as  before.  Parliament  is  prorogued,  L'Assemblee  is  prorogued; 
that  does  not  in  the  least  mean  that  the  powers  of  either  are 
lengthened  or  increased  in  any  way  but  that  they  are  tempo- 
rarily suspended.  Whatever  words  the  French  papers  may  use, 
I  have  never  seen  any  English  paper  use  the  word  in  any  other 
sense,  and  in  any  other  sense  it  cannot  possibly  be  used. 

46 


LORD  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL  IN  1874 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

And  in  a  further  letter  he  ends : 

I  am  looking  forward  particularly  to  utterly  suppressing 
and  crushing  le  petit  Fenelon.  We  must  really  tho'  drop  this 
argument  when  I  am  with  you,  as  it  is  likely  to  become  a  heated 
one,  I  fear.     We  will  therefore  "prorogue"  it. 

Immediately  after  my  marriage  in  April,  1874,  I  set- 
tled in  London,  to  enjoy  my  first  season  with  all  the 
vigor  and  un jaded  appetite  of  youth.  After  the  com- 
paratively quiet  life  of  Paris,  we  seemed  to  live  in  a 
whirl  of  gaieties  and  excitement.  Many  were  the  de- 
lightful balls  I  went  to,  which,  unlike  those  of  the  pres- 
ent day,  invariably  lasted  till  five  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
Masked  balls  were  much  the  vogue.  Holland  House, 
with  its  wonderful  historical  associations  and  beautiful 
gardens,  was  a  fitting  frame  for  such  entertainments, 
and  I  remember  enjoying  myself  immensely  at  one 
given  there.  Disguised  in  a  painted  mask  and  a  yellow 
wig,  I  mystified  every  one.  My  sister  who  was  staying 
with  us,  had  been  walking  in  the  garden  with  young 
Lord ,  who  was  a  parti  and  much  run  after  by  de- 
signing mothers  with  marriageable  daughters.  Intro- 
ducing him  to  me,  she  pretended  I  was  her  mother. 
Later  in  the  evening  I  attacked  him,  saying  that  my 
daughter  had  just  confided  to  me  that  he  had  proposed 
to  her,  and  that  she  had  accepted  him.  To  this  day  I  can 
see  his  face  of  horror  and  bewilderment.  Vehemently 
he  assured  me  that  it  was  not  so.  But  I  kept  up  the 
farce,  declaring  that  my  husband  would  call  on  him  next 
day  and  reveal  our  identity,  and  that  meanwhile  I  should 
consider  him  engaged  to  my  charming  daughter.    Defi- 

49 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

dent  in  humor  and  not  overburdened  with  brains,  he 
could  not  take  the  joke,  and  left  the  house  a  miserable 

man. 

Generally  speaking,  there  is  no  doubt  that  English 
people  are  dull-witted  at  a  masked  ball,  and  do  not 
understand  or  enter  into  the  spirit  of  intrigue  which  is 
all-important  on  such  occasions.  One  reason  may  be 
that  both  sexes  are  masked  in  England— whereas  abroad 
this  is  not  the  practice,  nor  would  it  be  understood.  The 
hcense  a  man  might  take  if  his  identity  were  to  remain 
unknown  would  never  be  tolerated.  Besides,  it  stands  to 
reason  that  unless  one  of  the  two  remains  unmasked 
there  cannot  be  much  mystifying.  Some  women  refuse 
to  say  anything  but  "Yes"  and  "No"  in  a  falsetto  voice, 
and  think  they  have  had  a  glorious  time  as  long  as  their 
identity  is  not  discovered.  "You  don't  know  me.  You 
don't  know  me,"  was  the  parrot  cry  of  one  lady.  "And 
I  don't  want  to,"  said  Lord  Charles  Beresford,  fleeing 
from  her,  "if  you  've  nothing  else  to  say." 

Another  masked  ball  was  given  by  M.  and  Mme.  de 
Santurce,  the  head  of  the  Murietta  family.  They  had  a 
charming  house  in  Kensington,  like  many  others  long 
since  closed.  Madame  de  Santurce,  a  beautiful  woman 
of  the  Spanish  type,  was  very  popular,  and  entertained 
lavishly  at  Wadhurst,  their  country  place  in  Sussex. 
Some  years  later,  being  there  with  Randolph,  an  amus- 
ing incident  occurred  at  which  we  all  laughed  heartily. 
Thought-reading  was  the  fashionable  amusement  of  the 
moment,  and  one  evening  Lady  de  Clifford,  a  very 
pretty  and  attractive  woman,  insisted  on  making  Ran- 
dolph, who  was  reading  peacefully  in  a  corner,  join  in 
the  game.    Having  duly  blindfolded  him,  she  led  him 

50 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

into  the  middle  of  the  room  and  made  various  passes 
with  her  hands,  saying,  "Don't  resist  any  thought  which 
comes  into  your  head ;  do  exactly  what  you  feel  like  do- 
ing. I  am  willing  you."  Without  a  moment's  hesitation 
Randolph  threw  his  arms  round  the  lady,  and  embraced 
her  before  the  whole  company.  To  her  cries  and  indig- 
nant remonstrances  he  merely  replied,  "You  told  me  to 
do  what  I  felt  like  doing — so  I  did." 

The  London  season  of  thirty  years  ago  was  far  more 
prolonged  and  its  glories  more  apparent  than  they  are 
now.  It  was  looked  upon  as  a  very  serious  matter  which 
no  self-respecting  persons  who  considered  themselves 
"in  society"  would  forego,  nor  of  which  a  votary  of 
fashion  would  willingly  miss  a  week  or  a  day.  The  win- 
ter session  which  usually  assembled  in  February,  as  it 
does  now,  and  sat  for  six  weeks,  brought  to  London  the 
legislators  and  their  families ;  but  from  October  to  Feb- 
ruary the  town  was  a  desert.  Religiously,  however,  on 
the  first  of  May,  Belgravia — the  Belgravia  described  by 
Lord  Beaconsfield— would  open  the  doors  of  its  freshly 
painted  and  flower-bedecked  mansions.  Dinners,  balls, 
and  parties  succeeded  one  another  without  intermission 
till  the  end  of  July,  the  only  respite  being  at  the  Whit- 
suntide recess.  A  few  of  the  racing  people  might  go  to 
Newmarket  for  a  week,  but  the  fashionable  Avorld 
flocked  only  to  the  classic  races— the  Derby,  Ascot,  and 
Goodwood. 

Parties  were  arranged  for  Hurlingham  to  see  the 
pigeon-shooting,  or  for  the  fashionable  flower-shows 
then  held  at  the  Botanical  Gardens,  or  again  to  Wimble- 
don to  see  the  shooting  for  the  Elcho  Shield,  which  in 
those  days  was  a  feature  of  the  London  season.    To  be 

51 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

Commandant  of  the  Camp  was  a  coveted  post,  and  I  re- 
member Lord  and  Lady  WharnclifFe  living  in  large 
tents  and.  entertaining  for  a  whole  fortnight  in  the  most 
sumptuous  manner.  We  used  to  drive  down  on  coaches 
in  Ascot  frocks  and  feathered  hats,  and  stay  to  dinner, 
driving  back  by  moonlight. 

Chiswick  House,  which  was  let  at  that  time  by  the  late 
Duke  of  Devonshire  to  the  Prince  and  Princess  of 
Wales,  was  the  scene  of  many  garden-parties  and  din- 
ners. One  night  we  dined  there  to  meet  two  Russian 
Grand  Dukes.  My  elder  sister,  who  had  arrived  from 
Paris  and  was  staying  with  us,  was  also  invited.  We 
were  pressed  to  play  the  waltzes  of  Waldteufel,  whose 
lovely  music  was  only  just  beginning  to  be  known  in 
England,  although  he  had  for  years  been  band-master 
at  the  Tuileries.  When  the  royalties  were  departing  the 
company  stood  on  both  sides  of  the  hf  11,  the  Prince  and 
Princess  of  Wales  gracefully  bowing  and  saying  a  few 
words  to  each  guest  as  was  their  wont.  The  Russian 
Grand  Dukes,  on  the  other  hand,  marched  out  without 
so  much  as  a  look  or  a  bow  to  the  courtesying  ladies. 
This  was  very  much  commented  on  and  murmurs  of 
"Cossacks!"  and  "Grattez  le  Russe"  were  heard  on  all 
sides. 

The  French  Embassy  was  a  great  feature  of  that 
season.  Sosthenes  de  La  Rochefoucauld,  Due  de  Bi- 
saccia,  had  been  appointed  Ambassador  to  London,  and 
he  and  his  wife  (Princesse  Marie  de  Ligne)  were  im- 
mensely liked,  the  prestige  of  his  great  name  adding 
luster  to  the  importance  of  his  post.  Their  dinners  and 
balls  were  most  sumptuous,  everything  being  done  on  a 
princely  scale.    On  state  occasions  their  gala  coach  vied 

52 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

in  splendor  with  the  finest  Enghsh  equipages,  the  purple 
and  red  liveries  of  the  La  Rochefoucauld  family  having 
rarely  seen  the  light  of  day  since  the  reign  of  Louis 
XVIII.  Much  to  every  one's  regret  the  Duke  was  re- 
called after  a  few  months.  Appointed  by  Marshal 
MacMahon,  he  so  far  forgot  that  he  was  Ambassador  of 
the  Republic  as  to  make  a  speech  in  the  Chamber  during 
a  week's  leave  in  Paris,  in  which  he  w^armly  advocated 
the  reestablishment  of  the  Monarchy ! 

I  think  the  sight  which  impressed  me  the  most  was 
Rotten  Row,  the  wonder  and  admiration  of  foreigners, 
whose  Prater,  Pincio,  Unter  den  Linden,  or  Allee  des 
Acacias,  were  but  a  faint  copy.  Its  glories  are,  alas!  a 
thing  of  the  past.  In  1874,  between  the  hours  of  twelve 
and  two,  the  Park  was  still  the  most  frequented  place 
in  London,  the  fashionable  world  congregating  there  to 
ride,  drive,  or  walk.  It  was  a  brilliant  and  animated 
scene  which  filled  the  foreigner  with  admiration  and 
envy,  no  capital  in  Europe  being  able  to  compete  with  it. 

The  claim  to  the  finest  horsemanship  in  the  world  has 
with  justice  been  awarded  to  English  men  and  women. 
Mounted  on  thoroughbred  hacks,  the  ladies  wore  close- 
fitting  braided  habits,  which  showed  off  their  slim  figures 
to  advantage.  The  men,  irreproachably  attired  in  frock- 
coats,  pearl-gray  trousers,  and  varnished  boots,  wore  the 
inevitable  tall  hat,  a  great  contrast  to  the  neglige  Rough 
Rider  appearance  of  the  present  day,  when  all  elegance 
is  proscribed  in  favor  of  comfort.  For  two  hours  a 
smartly  dressed  crowd  jostled  one  another,  walking 
slowly  up  and  down  on  each  side  of  the  Row.  Well-ap- 
pointed vehicles  of  all  kinds  made  the  Park  look  gay, 
from  the  four-in-hand  coach  and  pony-carriage  to  the 

53 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

now  obsolete  tilbury,  with  its  tiny  groom  clinging  like  a 
limpet  behind.  In  the  afternoon  the  stately  barouche 
made  its  appearance,  with  high-stepping  horses,  be- 
wigged  coachmen,  and  powdered  footmen  in  gorgeous 
livery.  A  few  of  these  still  survive,  but  formerly  they 
were  the  rule  rather  than  the  exception.  One  day  much 
excitement  was  caused  by  the  sight  of  a  man  galloping 
furiously  up  and  down  in  pursuit,  so  it  seemed,  of  the 
Heir  Apparent.  It  was  found  out  afterward  that  he 
had  no  nefarious  intentions,  but  unfortunately  he  went  a 
little  too  close,  and  cannoning  against  the  royal  person- 
age, knocked  him  over.  This  incident  gave  rise  to  an 
amusing  popular  song  called  "The  Galloping  Snob  of 
Rotten  Row." 

Up  to  1834  carriages  were  allowed  in  the  Row,  but 
now  its  tanned  roadway  is  kept  entirely  for  riders.  The 
Duke  of  St.  Albans,  Hereditary  Grand  Falconer,  how- 
ever, has  the  privilege  of  driving  through  the  Row  if  he 
chooses.  This  reminds  me  of  a  story  told  of  Lord 
Charles  Beresford,  who  accepted  the  wagers  of  some 
friends  that  he  would  drive  up  the  Row  without  being 
molested  by  the  police.  But  on  the  day  fixed  for  the 
experiment,  the  friends,  who  had  repaired  thither  en 
masse,  looked  in  vain  for  him  until  in  the  much-abused 
driver  of  a  water-cart,  which  was  careering  up  and  down 
splashing  every  one,  they  spied  the  laughing  counte- 
nance of  the  triumphant  Lord  Charles. 

It  may  not  be  generally  known  that  what  is  now  called 
Rotten  Row  was  in  old  days  termed  "The  King's  Old 
Road"  and  "The  King's  New  Road,"  Rotten  Row  being 
probably  derived  from  "Route  du  Roi."  For  more  than 
two  centuries  Hyde  Park  has  been  a  rendezvous  for 

54 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

exercise  and  social  intercourse.  Pepys  says  in  his  gossipy 
diary:  "April  30th,  1661.  I  am  sorry  that  I  am  not  at 
London,  to  be  at  Hide-Parke  to-morrow,  among  the 
great  gallants  and  ladies,  which  will  be  fine."  And 
again:  "April  16th,  1664.  To  Hide-Parke,  where  I  had 
not  been  since  last  year;  where  I  saw  the  King  with  his 
periwigs,  but  not  altered  at  all ;  my  Lady  Castlemaine  in 
a  coach  by  herself,  in  yellow  satin  and  a  pinner  on;  and 
many  brave  persons.  And  myself  being  in  a  hackney 
and  full  of  people,  was  ashamed  to  be  seen  by  the  world, 
many  of  them  knowing  me."  And  again:  "March  19th, 
1665.  JNIr.  Povy  and  I  in  his  coach  to  Hide-Parke, 
being  the  first  day  of  the  tour  there.  Where  many 
brave  ladies,  among  others,  Castlemaine,  lay  impudently 
upon  her  back,  in  her  coach,  asleep,  with  her  mouth 
open." 

Having  been  brought  up  in  France,  I  was  accustomed 
to  the  restrictions  and  chaperonage  to  which  young  girls 
had  to  submit,  but  I  confess  to  thinking  that  as  a  mar- 
ried woman  I  should  be  able  to  emancipate  myself  en- 
tirely. In  matters  of  propriety,  however,  London  was 
much  more  strict  and  conventional  than  it  is  now.  A 
lady  never  traveled  alone  without  taking  her  maid  with 
her  in  the  railway  carriage.  To  go  by  oneself  in  a  han- 
som was  thought  very  "fast" — not  to  speak  of  walking, 
which  could  be  permitted  only  in  quiet  squares  or  streets. 
As  for  young  girls  driving  anywhere  by  themselves,  such 
a  thing  was  unheard  of. 

Etiquette  and  the  amenities  of  social  life  were  thought 
much  more  of  than  they  are  now.  The  writing  of  cere- 
monious notes,  the  leaving  of  cards,  not  to  speak  of 
visiles  de  digestion,  which  even  young  men  were  sup- 

55 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

posed  to  pay,  took  up  most  afternoons.  There  was 
little  or  none  of  that  extraordinary  restlessness  and 
craving  for  something  new  which  is  a  feature  of  to-day, 
necessarily  causing  manners  to  deteriorate,  and  certainly 
curtailing  the  amenities  of  social  life  on  which  past  gene- 
rations set  such  store.  A  nod  replaces  the  ceremonious 
bow,  a  familiar  hand-shake  the  elaborate  courtesy.  The 
carefully-worded  beautifully-written  invitation  of  thirty 
years  ago  is  dropped  in  favor  of  a  garbled  telephone 
message,  such  as  "Will  Mrs.  S.  dine  with  Lady  T.  and 
bring  a  man,  and  if  she  can't  find  one  she  must  n't  come, 
as  it  would  make  them  thirteen";  or  a  message  to  a  Club, 
"WiU  Mr.  G.  dine  with  Lady  T.  to-night?  If  no,  will 
he  look  in  the  card-room  and  see  if  any  of  her  lot  are 
there,  and  suggest  somebody."  Life,  however,  seemed 
to  be  as  full  as  it  is  now,  although  people  did  not  try  to 
press  into  one  day  the  duties  and  pleasures  of  a  week, 
finishing  none  and  enjoying  none.  The  motor  and  the 
telephone  were  unknown,  and  the  receipt  of  the  shilling 
telegram  was  still  unusual  enough  to  cause  feelings  of 
apprehension.  There  was  none  of  that  easy  tolerance 
and  familiarity  which  is  undoubtedly  fostered  by  the 
daily,  not  to  say  hourly,  touch  and  communication  of 
modern  society. 

The  strict  observance  of  Sunday  filled  me  with  awe 
and  amazement.  I  had  lived  most  of  my  life  in  Paris, 
where  everything  gay  and  bright  was  reserved  for  that 
day,  and  could  not  understand  the  voluntary,  nay,  delib- 
erate gloom  and  depression  in  which  every  one  indulged. 
There  was  then  no  Queen's  Hall  to  while  away  a  wet 
afternoon  and  improve  one's  knowledge  of  good  music. 
The  fashion  of  going  to  the  country  for  the  week-end 

56 


^  f^ 


•'^ 


LADY    RANDOLPH    CHI'KCHILI- 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

was  not  known,  whereas  now  motors  have  made  the 
country  so  accessible  that  the  eyes  of  all  sensible  people 
are  open  to  the  folly  of  wasting  days  when  not  obliged 
in  a  hot,  evil-smelling  and  noisy  metropolis. 

Innumerable  are  the  country-house  parties  with  golf, 
lawn-tennis  and  the  river  to  amuse  and  keep  one  out  of 
doors.  Mothers  with  broods  of  marriageable  daughters 
find  this  kind  of  entertainment  a  better  market  to  take 
them  to  than  the  heated  atmosphere  of  the  ball-room, 
which  the  desirable  partis  shun  for  the  greater  attraction 
of  air  and  exercise. 

Gardening,  too,  has  become  a  craze.  The  lovely  gar- 
dens which  formerly  were  left  by  their  owners  to  bloom 
unseen  are  now  sought  after,  and  reveled  in.  Every  one 
aspires  to  be  a  Miss  Jekyll  or  a  Mrs.  Boyd,  and  the  rival 
merits  of  Japanese,  Friendship  or  Rock  Gardens  form  a 
favorite  subject  of  discussion. 

It  was  not  until  well  on  in  the  eighties  that  people 
began  to  give  dinner  parties  on  Sundays.  Very  few  had 
out  their  carriages,  and  as  Randolph  objected  to  the 
practice  our  modest  brougham  was  replaced  by  the  com- 
mon cab. 

On  one  occasion  we  dined  at  Marlborough  House. 
As  it  was  a  very  hot  night  in  July,  and  the  party 
a  small  one,  the  Prince  of  Wales  accompanied  his 
departing  guests  to  the  door.  At  that  moment  a  foot- 
man in  stentorian  tones  announced,  "Lady  Randolph 
Churchill's  carriage  stops  the  way/'  whereupon  a  de- 
crepit Rosinante,  dragging  the  most  dilapidated  of  four- 
wheelers,  well  filled  with  straw,  crawled  up  to  the  door. 
As  I  prepared  to  get  in,  our  royal  host  chafRngly  re- 
marked that  my  conscience  was  better  than  my  carriage. 

59 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

Not  to  be  outdone,  I  retorted:  "Is  it  not,  Sir,  the  Queen's 
carriage?    How  can  I  have  a  better?"  ^ 

Speaking  of  cabs  reminds  me  that  it  was  always  said 
that  the  late  Lord  and  Lady  Salisbury,  who  were  not 
given  an  adequate  allowance  in  the  early  years  of  their 
marriage,  and  who,  as  every  one  knows,  increased  their 
income  by  the  work  of  their  pens,  went  about  habitually 
in  four-wheelers.  Lady  Salisbury,  it  is  added,  used  to 
stick  straws  in  her  ball  dress  to  draw  attention  to  the 
parsimony  with  which  they  were  treated. 

Thirty  years  ago  there  were  very  few  Americans  in 
London :  Miss  Consuelo  Ysnaga,  afterwards  Duchess  of 
Manchester;  Miss  Stevens,  now  Lady  Paget;  and  Mrs. 
William  Carrington,  were  among  those  I  knew. 

In  England,  as  on  the  Continent,  the  American 
woman  was  looked  upon  as  a  strange  and  abnormal  crea- 
ture, with  habits  and  manners  something  between  a  Red 
Indian  and  a  Gaiety  Girl.  Anything  of  an  outlandish 
nature  might  be  expected  of  her.  If  she  talked,  dressed 
and  conducted  herself  as  any  well-bred  woman  would, 
much  astonishment  was  invariably  evinced,  and  she  was 
usually  saluted  with  the  tactful  remark,  "I  should  never 
have  thought  you  were  an  American,"  which  was  in- 
tended as  a  compliment. 

As  a  rule,  people  looked  upon  her  as  a  disagreeable 
and  even  dangerous  person,  to  be  viewed  with  suspicion, 
if  not  avoided  altogether.  Her  dollars  were  her  only 
recommendation,  and  each  was  credited  with  the  posses- 
sion of  them,  otherwise  what  w^as  her  raison  d'etre?  No 
distinction  was  ever  made  among  Americans ;  they  were 
all  supposed  to  be  of  one  uniform  type.    The  wife  and 

^  Public  conveyances  were  dubbed  the  Queen's  carriages. 

60 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

daughters  of  the  newly-enriched  Cahfornian  miner, 
swathed  in  silks  and  satins,  and  blazing  with  diamonds 
on  the  smallest  provocation;  the  cultured,  refined  and 
retiring  Bostonian ;  the  aristocratic  Virginian,  as  full  of 
tradition  and  family  pride  as  a  Percy  of  Northumber- 
land, or  a  La  Rochefoucauld ;  the  cosmopolitan  and  up- 
to-date  New  Yorker :  all  were  grouped  in  the  same  cate- 
gory, all  were  considered  tarred  with  the  same  brush. 

The  innumerable  caricatures  supposed  to  represent 
the  typical  American  girl  depicted  her  always  of  one 
type:  beautiful  and  refined  in  appearance,  but  dressed 
in  exaggerated  style,  and  speaking — with  a  nasal  twang 
— the  most  impossible  language.  The  young  lady  who, 
in  refusing  anything  to  eat,  says,  "I  'm  pretty  crowded 
just  now,"  or  in  explaining  why  she  is  traveling  alone 
remarks  that  "Poppa  don't  voyage,  he  's  too  fleshy,"  was 
thought  to  be  representative  of  the  national  type  and 
manners. 

So  great  in  society  was  the  ignorance  even  of  the 
country  that  it  was  thought  astonishing  if  an  American 
from  New  York  knew  nothing  of  one  from  San  Fran- 
cisco, as  though  they  came  from  neighboring  counties. 
On  the  Continent  the  ignorance  was  still  greater — many 
went  so  far  as  to  include  South  America.  I  remember 
once  a  Frenchman  asking  if  I  knew  a  certain  Chilian 
lady,  and  when  I  replied  in  the  negative,  he  exclaimed, 
''Mais  netcs  vous  pas  toutes  les  deux  Americaines?" 

American  men  were  myths,  few  being  idle  enough  to 
have  leisure  to  travel.  But  they  were  all  supposed  to  be 
as  lord  and  vulgar  as  the  mothers  were  unpresentable, 
and  the  daughters  undesirable— unless  worth  their 
weight  in  gold. 

61 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

A  great  deal  of  water  has  flowed  under  the  bridge 
since  those  days.  The  steady  progress  of  American 
women  in  Europe  can  be  gauged  by  studying  their  pres- 
ent position.  It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  they  are  sharing 
many  of  the  "seats  of  the  mighty,"  and  the  most  jealous 
and  carping  critic  cannot  find  fault  with  the  way  they  fill 
them.  In  the  political,  literary,  and  diplomatic  world 
they  hold  their  own.  The  old  prejudices  against  them, 
which  arose  mostly  out  of  ignorance,  have  been  removed, 
and  the  American  woman  is  now  generally  approved  of. 

In  those  days  Parisian  fashions  made  their  appear- 
ance in  London  about  two  years  after  they  were  the 
mode  in  Paris.  In  the  matter  of  dress  the  Englishwomen 
have  so  improved  of  late  years  that  it  is  difficult  to  real- 
ize how  badly  and  inappropriately  they  used  to  attire 
themselves.  Having  formed  my  opinion  by  what  I  had 
heard  abroad,  I  fancied  that  they  generally  wore  a  mus- 
lin and  a  sealskin — and  perhaps  I  was  not  far  wrong; 
but  the  genial  climate  of  England,  with  its  variation  of 
from  fifteen  to  twenty  degrees  in  a  day,  might  be  offered 
as  an  excuse. 

What  would  now  be  thought  proper  only  for  a  dinner 
could  then  be  worn  at  Ascot.  I  remember  appearing  on 
the  Cup  Day  in  my  wedding-dress  of  white  satin  and 
point  lace,  with  roses  in  my  bonnet.  On  the  other  hand, 
black  was  alone  thought  possible  for  a  lady  to  wear  at  the 
play,  and  once  when  I  appeared  in  pale  blue,  Randolph 
implored  me  before  starting  to  change  it,  as  it  was  "so 
conspicuous." 

The  late  Lord  Dudley,  like  Napoleon  I,  disliked  black 
and  dark  colors,  and  never  allowed  any  member  of  his 
family  to  wear  them.    Not  knowing  this,  I  went  to  a  ball 

62 


''VUS  U /\lCi-'  ^icnil.^£.  LU-ii  q 


!L  U/'U'L'/l'th 


(l/l,Jf<n 


/m/"   H-.ingi-  SfHi 


.tufiffUtJC.  tff 


aftlie. 


HIS  GRACE,  JOHN.  DUKE  OF  MARLBOROUGH 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

at  Dudley  House  in  what  I  thought  a  particularly  at- 
tractive costume — dark  blue  and  crimson  roses.  To  my 
discomfiture  my  host  came  up  to  me  and  nearly  reduced 
me  to  tears  by  asking  why  I  came  to  his  ball  in  such  a 
"monstrous  dress."  An  otherwise  most  kind  and  atten- 
tive host,  he  certainly  was  an  autocrat  in  his  own  house 
respecting  dress.  At  Witley  Court,  his  famous  place  in 
Worcestershire,  when  there  was  a  shooting  party  he 
would  come  to  breakfast  in  a  velvet  coat,  and  insisted  on 
his  guests  wearing  shoes  and  morning  coats  instead  of 
the  hobnailed  boots  and  rough  and  often  weather-beaten 
tweeds  donned  by  the  sportsmen  of  to-day. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  even  in  sporting  pursuits  ele- 
gance in  dress  was  thought  more  of  than  comfort.  In 
looking  at  the  old  pictures  of  the  Prince  Consort,  it 
seemed  strange  that  he  could  stalk  in  the  costume  he  is 
invariably  represented  as  wearing— tight-fitting  trousers 
and  a  long  cutaway  coat,  not  to  mention  a  flyaway  felt 
hat,  and  a  plaid  on  his  shoulders  by  way  of  cape. 

Before  leaving  the  subject  of  dress,  it  is  only  fair  to 
recognize  that  Englishwomen  have  set  the  fashion  to  all 
the  world  in  country  clothes.  There  they  are  at  their 
best,  and  their  practical  and  sensible  garments,  now  so 
widely  adopted  by  all,  were  a  revelation  to  me,  with  my 
Louis  XV  heels  and  plumed  hats.  When  I  first  came  to 
England  and  was  taken  for  walks  in  the  country,  I  had 
many  bitter  experiences  with  long  gowns  and  thin  paper- 
like shoes,  before  realizing  the  advantage  of  short  skirts 
and  "beetle-crushers." 

Even  Englishwomen,  however,  have  had  to  wait  for 
the  evolution  of  fashion  in  that  respect.  A  granddaugh- 
ter of  Sir  Hugh  Hume  Campbell,  a  Scotchman  of  the 

*  65 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

old  regime,  told  me  once  how  shocked  and  horrified  he 
was  the  first  time  he  saw  her  in  an  ulster.  He  dubbed  it 
"fast  and  mannish,"  only  one  remove  from  bloomers, 
and  declared  that  no  grandchild  of  his,  or  even  any  lady, 
who  wore  one  should  be  allowed  to  enter  his  house. 
"Mr.  Punch,"  who  at  that  time  caricatured  women 
smoking  cigarettes  in  short  tailor-made  dresses  and  hard 
pot  hats  as  something  improbable,  nay,  impossible,  little 
knew  what  a  prophet  he  was.  It  is  not  to  be  denied  that 
smoking  is  much  on  the  increase  among  women  in  Eng- 
land, and  it  is  now  more  or  less  an  accepted  fact,  and  is 
tolerated  even  in  the  most  old-fashioned  houses.  This 
has  its  advantages,  making  life  more  sociable,  as  men 
seek  their  own  dens  less,  knowing  that  they  can  have 
their  cigarettes  in  the  company  of  the  ladies. 

In  the  early  fifties  it  was  supposed  to  be  the  height 
of  ill-breeding  and  vulgarity  for  a  man  to  be  seen  smok- 
ing a  cigar  in  the  street,  and  the  smoking-room  in  a 
country-house  was  generally  some  miserable  room  con- 
sidered too  unattractive  for  anything  else,  and  as  far 
removed  from  the  living-rooms  as  possible.  Now  the 
warmest  and  brightest  is  surrendered. 

An  old  story  is  told  of  Lord  who  was  an  in- 
veterate smoker.  While  staying  at  Windsor  in  the  life- 
time of  the  Prince  Consort,  he  was  one  day  discovered 
in  his  bedroom,  lying  on  his  back,  smoking  up  the  chim- 
ney. This  was  repeated  to  Queen  Victoria,  and  thence- 
forward, it  is  said,  a  smoking-room  was  provided. 

Although  women  smoke  in  restaurants  it  is  unlikely 
that  the  practice  will  spread  farther,  for  in  Russia 
where  they  smoke  more  than  in  any  other  country  with 
the  exception  of  Austria,  a  lady  who  would  indulge  in 

66 


/',.>.'  ,  '/.      \i  il/Uh^/V(/(//l 


HER  GRACE,  SARAH  JENNINGS,   FIRST   DUCHESS  OF  MARLBOROfGH 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

thirty  or  forty  cigarettes  a  day  will  not  smoke  in  a  public 
place,  such  as  a  street  or  railway-station.  In  the  most 
aristocratic  Austrian  circles,  on  the  other  hand,  ladies  are 
frequently  seen  smoking  cigars  at  balls  and  receptions. 

When  one  sees  the  number  of  restaurants  there  are  at 
the  present  day,  crowded  with  well-dressed  and  often 
well-known  people,  it  seems  incredible  that  thirty  years 
ago  none  existed.  Sometimes  Randolph  and  I  would  be 
passing  through  London  in  August,  and  our  house 
being  closed  we  were  sorely  put  to  it  to  know  where  to 
dine.  The  only  possible  place  was  the  St.  James's 
Hotel,  now  the  Berkeley.  There,  if  necessity  took  you, 
you  could  get,  in  a  small,  dingy  dining-room  lighted 
with  gas,  an  apology  for  a  dinner.  Smoking  was  never 
allowed,  and  two  people  of  opposite  sex  seen  together 
were  looked  at  very  much  askance.  Later  the  Bachelors' 
Club  and  the  New  Club  at  Covent  Garden  became  the 
fashionable  resorts  at  which  to  dine,  although  to  do  so 
anywhere  but  in  a  private  house  was  thought  quite 
"emancipated." 

Small  dances  were  given  at  the  New  Club,  at  one  of 
which.  Count  Kinsky  being  the  host,  the  Prince  of 
Wales,  the  ill-fated  King  of  Portugal  then  Duke  of 
Braganza,  the  King  of  Greece,  and  the  unfortunate 
Archduke  Rudolph  of  Austria  were  present.  It  was 
most  animated,  and  we  danced  till  the  early  hours  of  the 
morning  to  the  music  of  the  Tziganes,  then  a  new  im- 
portation. An  American  young  lady  was  so  carried 
away  with  the  excitement  of  the  moment  that  she  was 
heard  calling  the  King  of  Greece,  with  whom  she  had 
been  dancing,  a  "bully  King" — much  to  his  amusement. 
I  often  met  the  King  in  later  years  at  Aix-les-Bains. 

69 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

He  was  then  extraordinarily  like  his  sister  Queen  Alex- 
andra, and  had  the  same  voice.  At  one  time  he  was 
much  interested  in  a  playhouse  which  was  being  built  at 
Athens,  to  be  called  the  National  Theater,  and  discussed 
the  project  at  length  with  me.  Madame  Duse,  happen- 
ing to  be  at  Aix  at  the  time,  was  very  anxious  to  in- 
augurate it.  I  spoke  to  the  King  on  her  behalf,  and  was 
instrumental  in  bringing  about  the  interview  between 
them.  Unfortunately  nothing  eventually  came  of  it,  as 
Madame  Duse  fell  ill.  It  was  a  great  pity  that  the 
finest  actress  alive  should  have  missed  this  opportunity 
of  opening  the  finest  theater  in  the  most  classic  of  all 
cities.  Although  very  attractive,  she  is  a  woman  of 
moods,  and  a  difficult  person  to  cultivate.  But  genius 
excuses  everything. 

In  those  days  it  would  have  been  absolutely  impossible 
for  ladies  to  appear  in  public  places  in  full  dress.  Now 
people  dine  at  restaurants  attired  as  for  a  ball,  with 
jewels  and  tiaras.  Once  at  the  Carlton  Hotel  I  saw  a 
large  party  of  well-known  people  having  supper  in  the 
public  room,  who,  from  their  costumes,  had  evidently 
been  performing  in  tableaux  vivants.  It  was  a  comical, 
if  not  very  edifying,  sight  to  see  Boadicea,  with  her 
shield  and  spear,  her  hair  hanging  to  the  ground,  sitting 
beside  a  youth  travestied  as  a  cherub,  with  a  wreath  of 
roses  on  his  foolish  head,  while  Madame  de  Pompadour 
in  powder  and  patches  faced  them  with  Julius  Csesar! 
Another  night  it  was  a  wedding  party  which  held  high 
revels  in  the  same  place.  The  young,  well-born,  and 
handsome  couple  were  to  be  married  the  next  day,  and 
had  chosen  this  form  of  public  amusement  to  celebrate 
their  last  hours  of  "single  blessedness."    Each  sat  at  a 

70 


GEORGE.  FOURTH  DUKE  OF  MARLBOROUGH,  AND  HIS  FAMILY 


In  his  vol  Lime  "  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds."  Mr.  William  B.  Hdultnii  Siiys  :  "  There  are  many  interesting" 
stories  told  about  this  picture.  When  Sir  Joshua  went  down  to  Blenheim  to  paint  in  the  younger 
members  of  the  group,  the  little  Lady  Anne  Churchill,  a  child  of  four,  on  heingf  brought  into  the  room, 
drew  back,  caught  hold  of  the  dress  of  her  nurse,  and  cried,  '  I  won't  be  painted  !  '  The  watchful 
painter  immediately  transferred  a  note  of  the  natural  attitude  of  the  child  to  the  canvas,  where  we  see 
her  clutching  the  dress  of  her  eldest  sister,  just  as  he  had  done  with  the  obstreperous  young  Russell  in 
the  Bedford  group.  To  account  for  this  attitude,  he  placed  her  next  eldest  sister  with  a  mask  before 
her  face,  ns  if  frightening  the  younger  child." 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

long  table  decorated  with  white  flowers,  the  prospective 
bride  with  her  girl  friends,  the  bridegroom  with  his  boon 
companions.  As  the  dinner  progressed  and  the  fun  in- 
creased, the  throwing  of  notes  and  flowers  to  one  an- 
other occasioned  shrieks  of  laughter,  which  startled  and 
amused  the  general  company,  not  to  speak  of  the  wait- 
ers, who  were  having  provided  for  them  a  show  for  which 
they  were  not  asked  to  pay. 

One  custom  which  has  changed  very  much  is  the  short 
interval  thought  necessary  before  a  married  couple  can 
appear  after  their  "honeymoon."  Two  or  three  days  is 
all  that  is  now  required  after  the  wedding ;  whereas  for- 
merly it  was  supposed  to  be  quite  extraordinary,  if  not 
actually  improper  and  embarrassing,  to  mix  with  your 
fellow-creatures  for  at  least  a  month.  Shortly  after  my 
marriage,  I  was  presented  to  the  Czar,  Alexander  II,  at 
a  ball  given  in  his  honor  at  Stafl'ord  House.  On  being 
told  that  I  had  been  married  only  a  few  weeks,  he  ex- 
claimed, fixing  his  cold  gray  eyes  on  me  with  a  look  of 
censure,  ''Et  ici  deja!" 

I  had  many  new  experiences  in  those  early  years,  not 
the  least  trying  being  my  attempt  at  housekeeping, 
which  was  very  erratic,  owing  to  the  ignorance  I  often 
had  cause  to  bemoan.  At  the  first  dinner  party  we  ever 
gave  the  chef  we  had  brought  from  Paris  became  "ex- 
cited," and,  to  my  consternation,  I  saw  the  entree,  in  the 
shape  of  patties,  floating  in  the  soup,  whereas  the 
poached  eggs  intended  for  it  appeared  in  solitary  gran- 
deur. These  are  things  never  to  be  forgotten  by  a  young 
housewife. 

Although  Randolph  did  not  trouble  the  House  of 
Commons  very  much  at  that  time,  being  satisfied  with  a 

73 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

perfunctory  attendance,  he  delighted  in  the  society  of 
poHticians  and  men  older  than  himself.  Lord  Beacons- 
field,  then  JNIr.  Disraeli,  sometimes  dined  with  us.  On 
one  occasion  Randolph  and  I  were  discussing  the  eve- 
ning, after  our  guests  had  departed,  and  he  commented 
on  Mr.  Disraeli's  flowery  and  exaggerated  language 
saying,  "When  I  offered  him  more  wine,  he  replied, 
'My  dear  Randolph,  I  have  sipped  your  excellent 
champagne,  I  have  drunk  your  good  claret,  I  have 
tasted  your  delicious  port,  I  will  have  no  more.'  "  This 
I  found  amusing,  as  having  sat  next  to  him  at  dinner 
I  had  particularly  noticed  that  he  drank  nothing 
but  a  little  weak  brandy  and  water.  Mr.  Disraeli  was 
always  kind  and  talked  to  me  at  length,  which  occasioned 
much  chaff  among  my  friends,  who  invariably  asked  me 
what  office  I  had  got  for  Randolph.  He  was  very  fond 
of  dragging  in  French  words,  a  language  he  spoke  with 
a  weird  accent.     I  remember  once  his  saying  to  me, 

speaking  of  a  prominent  politician  of  the  day.  Sir , 

a  great  friend  of  ours:  "I  think  him  very  gross,  like  an 
episeer"  (epicier)^  at  which  pronunciation  I  could 
hardly  keep  from  laughing.  Sometimes  he  was  rather 
cross,  and  if  bored  or  vexed,  did  not  hesitate  to  let  people 
know  it.  On  one  occasion  when  Lady  Lonsdale  (now 
Lady  de  Grey)  gave  an  evening  party  at  Carlton  House 
Terrace,  a  lady  whose  antics  were  generally  a  source  of 
amusement  ambled  up  to  Lord  Beaconsfield,  and  tap- 
ping him  archly  with  her  fan,  made  some  foolish  remark. 
Turning  a  stony  stare  on  her,  he  said  in  an  audible  voice 
to  his  neighbor,  "Who  is  that  little  ape?" 


74 


CHAPTER  IV 


BLENHEIM 


MY  first  visit  to  Blenheim  was  on  a  beautiful 
spring  day  in  May,  1874.  Some  of  the 
Duke's  tenants  and  Randolph's  constituents 
met  us  at  the  station  to  give  us  a  welcome,  and  taking 
the  horses  out  of  the  carriage,  insisted  on  dragging  us 
through  the  town  to  the  house.  The  place  could  not 
have  looked  more  glorious,  and  as  we  passed  through  the 
entrance  archway,  and  the  lovely  scenery  burst  upon  me, 
Randolph  said  with  pardonable  pride,  "This  is  the  finest 
view  in  England."  Looking  at  the  lake,  the  bridge,  the 
miles  of  magnificent  park  studded  with  old  oaks,  I 
found  no  adequate  words  to  express  my  admiration,  and 
when  we  reached  the  huge  and  stately  palace,  where  I 
was  to  find  hospitality  for  so  many  years,  I  confess  that 
I  felt  awed.  But  my  American  pride  forbade  the  ad- 
mission, and  I  tried  to  conceal  my  feelings,  asking  Ran- 
dolph if  Pope's  lines  were  a  true  description  of  the  in- 
side: 

"See,  sir,  here  's  the  grand  approach ; 
This  way  is  for  his  grace's  coach: 
There  lies  the  bridge,  and  here  *s  the  clock ; 
Observe  the  lion  and  the  cock, 
The  spacious  court,  the  colonnade, 
And  mark  how  wide  the  hall  is  made ! 

75 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

The  chimneys  are  so  well  design'd 
They  never  smoke  in  any  wind. 
This  gallery  's  contrived  for  walking, 
The  windows  to  retire  and  talk  in ; 
The  council  chamber  for  debate, 
And  all  the  rest  are  rooms  of  state." 
"Thanks,  sir,"  cried  I,  "  't  is  very  fine. 
But  where  d'  ye  sleep,  or  where  d'  ye  dine? 
I  find  by  all  you  have  been  telling, 
That 't  is  a  house,  but  not  a  dwelling." 

The  imperious  Sarah,  known  to  her  contemporaries  as 
"Great  Atossa," 

Who  with  herself,  or  others,  from  her  birth 
Finds  all  her  life  one  warfare  upon  earth, 

demolished  the  older  and  probably  more  comfortable 
hunting  lodge  which  stood  in  the  forest.  Tradition  as- 
serts that  it  occupied  the  site  of  the  "Bower"  in  which 
"Fair  Rosamond"  hid  her  royal  amours.  To  this  day 
"Rosamond's  Well,"  concealed  among  the  trees,  is  the 
object  of  a  favorite  walk.  Pope  also  took  exception  to 
the  noble  bridge  which  in  his  day  spanned  the  narrow 
river  only,  the  large  lake  through  which  it  now  runs 
having  been  made  later. 

How  strange  life  in  a  big  country-house  seemed  to 
me,  who  until  then  had  been  accustomed  only  to  towns ! 
The  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Marlborough  lived  in  a  most 
dignified,  and,  indeed,  somewhat  formal  style.  Every- 
thing was  conducted  in  what  would  now  be  considered  a 
very  old-fashioned  manner.  At  luncheon,  rows  of  en- 
tree dishes  adorned  the  table,  joints  beneath  massive 
silver  covers  being  placed  before  the  Duke  and  Duchess, 

76 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

who  each  carved  for  the  whole  company,  and  as  this  in- 
cluded governesses,  tutors,  and  children,  it  was  no  sine- 
cure. 

Before  leaving  the  dining-room,  the  children  filled 
with  food  small  baskets  kept  for  the  purpose  for  poor 
cottagers  or  any  who  might  be  sick  or  sorry  in  Wood- 
stock. These  they  distributed  in  the  course  of  their 
afternoon  walks. 

When  the  house  was  full  for  a  shooting-party,  even 
breakfast  was  made  a  ceremonious  meal,  and  no  one 
dreamed  of  beginning  until  all  had  assembled.  The 
ladies  would  be  dressed  in  long  velvet  or  silk  trains,  and 
I  remember  one  morning  laughing  immoderately  when 
Lady  Wilton  (the  second  wife  of  the  "wicked"  Earl,  as 
he  was  called),  on  appearing  in  an  electric  blue  velvet 
and  being  asked  who  made  it,  she  said  with  conscious 
pride,  "It  's  a  Stratton,"  ^  as  who  would  say,  "It  's  a 
Vandyke."  On  the  other  hand,  luncheon  for  the  shoot- 
ers was  not  in  those  days  the  glorified  affair  it  is  at  pres- 
ent. People  were  quite  content  with  something  cold, 
eaten  in  haste,  often  not  under  cover,  instead  of  the 
carpeted  tent  and  elaborate  feast  provided  nowadays, 
hot,  from  the  soup  to  the  coffee.  There  is  no  doubt  the 
present  generation  treat  a  country-house  more  or  less  like 
a  hotel,  coming  and  going  as  they  like,  to  suit  their  own 
convenience,  and  seldom  consulting  that  of  their  hosts. 

In  those  days,  the  guests  having  been  duly  told  by 
which  train  to  come,  were  expected  to  arrive  by  it,  unless 
a  very  good  excuse  was  forthcoming.  They  used  to  sit 
solemnly  through  an  elaborate  tea,  exchanging  empty 
civilities  for  an  hour  or  more,  until  the  hostess   (who 

1  Mrs.  Stratton  was  one  of  the  fashionable  dressmakers  of  the  day. 

77 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

wore  a  lace  cap  if  middle-aged,  then  about  forty)  gave 
the  signal  to  rise,  uttering  the  invariable  formula,  "I  am 
sure  you  must  need  a  little  rest."  The  guests,  once  im- 
mured within  their  rooms,  were  not  to  reappear  until 
the  dining-hour.  However  little  they  wanted  rest, 
however  bored  by  their  own  society,  or  disturbed  by  the 
unpacking  maid,  there  they  were  supposed  to  remain. 
Sometimes  it  was  the  hostess  who  suffered.  A  friend  of 
mine,  a  rather  shy  lady,  who  was  entertaining  a  prim 
Princess,  timidly  proposed  after  half  an  hour  of  uphill 
small  talk,  to  take  her  to  her  rooms.  "Thank  you,"  said 
the  Princess  in  icy  tones,  looking  at  her  watch,  "it  is  now 
half -past  five.    I  will  go  to  my  room  at  seven." 

Nous  avons  change  tout  cela.  Nowadays  some  of  the 
modern  hostesses  do  not  take  the  trouble  to  communicate 
at  all  in  respect  of  trains  and  such  details.  The  guests 
find  their  own  way,  and  choose  their  own  time,  at  their 
own  sweet  will  and  proper  responsibility.  Perchance 
the  host  and  hostess  are  not  even  at  home  to  welcome 
their  guests.  They  may  be  hunting,  golfing  or  motor- 
ing, and  excuses  when  they  do  appear  are  thought 
hardly  necessary  by  them  or  by  their  guests. 

When  the  family  were  alone  at  Blenheim,  everything 
went  on  with  the  regularity  of  clockwork.  So  assidu- 
ously did  I  practise  my  piano,  read,  or  paint,  that  I 
began  to  imagine  myself  back  in  the  school-room.  In 
the  morning  an  hour  or  more  was  devoted  to  the  reading 
of  newspapers,  which  was  a  necessity,  if  one  wanted  to 
show  an  intelligent  interest  in  the  questions  of  the  day, 
for  at  dinner  conversation  invariably  turned  on  politics. 
In  the  afternoon  a  drive  to  pay  a  visit  to  some  neighbor, 
or  a  walk  in  the  gardens,  would  help  to  while  away  some 

78 


A^k 


I'.^^UTi 


mn 


tilrtt 


,».^nj^K-:'j'jv,_,^f;^}^iaw*-. 


\  IHW  OF  BLENHEIM  PALACE 


(^■■f 


GATEWAY  AT  BLENHEIM 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

part  of  the  day.  After  dinner,  which  was  a  rather 
solemn  full-dress  affair,  we  all  repaired  to  what  was 
called  the  Vandyke  room.  There  one  might  read  one's 
book,  or  play  for  love  a  mild  game  of  whist.  Many  a 
glance  would  be  cast  at  the  clock,  which  sometimes 
would  be  surreptitiously  advanced  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
by  some  sleepy  member  of  the  family.  No  one  dared 
suggest  bed  until  the  sacred  hour  of  eleven  had  struck. 
Then  we  would  all  troop  out  into  a  small  anteroom,  and 
lighting  our  candles,  each  in  turn  would  kiss  the  Duke 
and  Duchess  and  depart  to  our  own  rooms. 

The  Duke  was  extremely  kind,  and  had  the  most  cour- 
teous and  grand  seigneur  appearance  and  manner;  his 
wife,  Frances  Anne,  Duchess  of  Marlborough,  my 
mother-in-law,  was  a  very  remarkable  and  intelligent 
woman,  with  a  warm  heart,  particularly  for  members  of 
her  family,  which  made  up  for  any  overmasterf ulness  of 
which  she  might  have  been  accused.  She  ruled  Blenheim 
and  nearly  all  those  in  it  with  a  firm  hand.  At  the  rustle 
of  her  silk  dress  the  household  trembled.  An  amusing  in- 
stance occurs  to  me  of  the  way  in  which  her  opinion  was 
consulted  even  by  distant  members  of  the  family.  Jane, 
Duchess  of  Marlborough,  who  was  the  third  wife  of  the 
sixth  Duke,  a  simple  and  amiable  woman,  asked  the 
Duchess  what  redress  she  could  get  for  not  being  invited 
to  Court  balls,  although  she  attended  the  Drawing 
Rooms.  The  Duchess  advised  her  to  write  to  the  Lord 
Chamberlain  on  the  subject.  A  few  days  later  she  re- 
ceived a  gushing  letter  from  Jane,  Duchess,  thanking 
her  for  her  advice,  which  had  been  most  efficacious.  "I 
am  told  it  was  a  clerical  error,"  she  added,  "although  I 
cannot  see  what  the  clergy  have  to  do  with  it." 

81 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

Owing  to  the  admirable  taste  and  knowledge  of  the 
present  Duke,  people  who  visit  Blenheim  to-day  and  see 
its  pictures,  tapestries,  and  art  treasures,  can  scarcely 
believe  that  it  has  been  shorn  of  many  of  its  glories. 
When  I  first  went  there  the  far-famed  Sunderland  Li- 
brary was  still  in  existence.  The  beautiful  old  leather 
bindings  decorated  as  nothing  else  can  the  immense  long 
gallery  with  its  white,  carved  book-cases  and  vaulted 
ceiling.  Cabinets  of  Limoges  enamels  gave  the  old- 
world  look  and  Renaissance  coloring  to  the  Duch- 
ess's sitting-room.  There,  too,  were  the  "Marlborough 
gems,"  besides  rooms  full  of  priceless  Oriental, 
Sevres,  and  Saxe  china.  And  what  of  the  four  hundred 
and  fifty  pictures  all  recklessly  sold  regardless  of  the 
remonstrances  and  prayers  of  the  family  and  without  a 
thought  of  future  generations !  Little  did  Lord  Cairns 
think  when  he  made  his  Act  affecting  the  sale  of  heir- 
looms that  it  could  be  stretched  to  such  a  point.  No 
doubt  a  certain  number  could  have  been  spared,  such  as 
Rubens's  "Progress  of  Silenus,"  "Lot  and  his  Daugh- 
ters," and  a  few  others  which,  though  works  of  art,  were 
startling,  to  say  the  least,  and,  oddly  enough,  hung  in 
the  dining-room.  If  familiarity  breeds  contempt,  it  also 
engenders  indifference,  and  the  most  prudish  of  gover- 
nesses, sitting  primly  between  her  charges,  never  seemed 
to  notice  these  pictures,  nor  did  any  members  of  the 
family. 

The  best  twenty-five  pictures  of  the  collection  alone 
were  valued  at  £400,000  [$2,000,000].  Of  these  the 
"Madonna  Ansidei,"  by  Raphael,  which  had  been  given 
by  the  King  of  Prussia  to  John,  Duke  of  Marlborough, 
was  purchased  for  a  sum  of  £70,000  [$350,000]  by  the 
National  Gallery;  also  a  portrait  of  Charles  I  by  Van- 

82 


fl^iji: 


/.'' 


•m->. 


---N      -^ 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

dyke  for  £50,000  [$250,000].  Rubens's  portrait  of 
himself  with  his  wife  Helen  Forment  and  infant,  and 
another-  of  his  wife  and  son,  were  sold  for  £50,000 
[$250,000]  to  the  late  Baron  Alphonse  de  Rothschild. 
Several  family  portraits,  notably  "The  Fortune-Teller" 
(Lord  Henry  and  Lady  Charlotte  Spencer)  by  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds,  were  sold.  Luckily  the  famous  Marl- 
borough Family,  also  by  Sir  Joshua,  was  not  allowed  to  go. 

Many  interesting  stories  are  told  about  this  picture. 
"When  Sir  Joshua  went  down  to  Blenheim  to  paint  in 
the  younger  members  of  the  group,  little  Lady  Anne 
Churchill,  a  child  of  four,  on  being  brought  into  the 
room,  drew  back,  caught  hold  of  the  dress  of  her  nurse, 
and  cried,  T  won't  be  painted!'  The  watchful  painter 
immediately  transferred  a  note  of  the  natural  attitude 
of  the  child  to  the  canvas,  where  we  see  her  clutching  the 
dress  of  her  eldest  sister,  just  as  he  had  done  with  the 
obstreperous  young  Russell  in  the  Bedford  group.,  To 
account  for  this  attitude,  he  placed  her  next  eldest  sister 
with  a  mask  before  her  face,  as  if  frightening  the 
younger  child.  This  incident  is  borrowed  from  an  an- 
tique gem,  but  it  is  as  good  an  illustration  as  another  of 
Reynolds's  facility  and  resource. 

"It  is  said,  too,  that  while  he  was  painting  the  picture 
at  Blenheim  he  dropped  his  snuff  about,  and  the 
Duchess,  anxious  for  her  carpet,  sent  a  footman  to 
sweep  it  up.  'Go  away,'  said  the  painter,  with  a  proper 
sense  of  his  dignity,  'the  dust  you  make  will  do  more 
harm  to  my  picture  than  my  snufF  to  the  carpet.'  " 

It  surprises  me  that  in  Mr.  Boulton's  book  upon  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds,  from  wliich  the  above  is  quoted,  he 
should  have  overlooked  the  interesting  point  that  the 
young  Marquess  of  Blandford  standing  near  his  father 

85 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

is  holding  in  his  arms  one  of  the  ten  red  jewel  cases  which 
contained  the  celebrated  Marlborough  gems.  The 
Duke  himself,  who  during  the  latter  part  of  the  eigh- 
teenth century  formed  one  of  the  finest  collections  of 
gems,  intaglios  and  cameos  ever  made  in  England,  has 
in  his  hand  his  favorite  sardonyx  with  a  cameo  head 
of  Augustus.  This  gem  was  sold  later  on  for  <£2,350 
[$11,750]. 

Tourists,  with  whom  most  show-places  in  England  are 
infested,  abounded  at  Blenheim,  and  at  certain  times  of 
the  year  and  for  several  days  in  each  week  one  had,  for 
a  little  privacy,  to  take  refuge  in  one's  own  rooms.  Oc- 
casionally, for  fun,  some  of  us  would  put  on  old  cloaks 
and  hats,  and,  armed  with  reticules  and  Baedekers,  walk 
round  with  the  tourists  to  hear  their  remarks,  which  were 
not  always  flattering  to  the  family.  One  day  we  nearly 
betrayed  ourselves  with  laughter  at  one  of  my  com- 
patriots exclaiming  before  a  family  picture:  "My,  what 
poppy  eyes  these  Churchills  have  got!" 

Foreigners  visiting  Oxford  would  often  come  over  to 
see  Blenheim.  The  famous  tapestries,  representing  the 
victorious  battles  of  the  first  Duke,  and  given  to  him  by 
various  towns,  were  always  an  object  of  great  interest. 
On  one  occasion  a  Frenchman,  who  had  been  listening 
in  sullen  silence  to  a  glowing  account  of  the  French  de- 
feats, could  stand  it  no  longer.  Thrusting  his  stick 
through  a  bit  of  the  tapestry  representing  a  fleur  de  lis 
flag  and  trophies  in  the  possession  of  the  British,  he  tried 
to  tear  it  up,  shouting  with  rage,  '"'Ce  nest  pas  vrai!  ce 
nest  pas  vrai!"    To  this  day  the  long  rent  can  be  seen. 

This  reminds  me  of  my  father-in-law's  favorite  anec- 
dote in  respect  to  Blenheim.    I  think  it  was  his  grand- 

86 


^ 

^ 

^^^^^^^^^^H?                                              ''^i^^tf^^X"                                        \]^^^|9^^^^^^^^^^^^^^I 

L  1 

,.  J^TW^    ■           ^W 

^^^^^^V^^^^V^^HC 

fliir          ^^H 

m  ■ 

" 

HIS  GRACE,  GEORGE  CHARLES,  SE\-EN-TH  DUKE  OF  MARLBOROUGH 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

father  who  had  as  his  guest  the  French  Ambassador  of 
the  day,  evidently  a  man  who  was  somewhat  cynical,  not 
to  say  disagreeable,  for  he  kept  asking  the  Duke  most 
unnecessary  questions  as  to  who  had  given  this  and 
who  had  given  that.  "The  house,  the  tapestries,  the  pic- 
tures— were  they  all  given?  And  the  Raphael —  Was 
that  the  gift  of  the  King  of  Prussia?  Was  there  any- 
thing that  had  7iot  been  given?"  The  Duke,  slightly  an- 
noyed, said  at  last:  "If  your  Excellency  will  come  with 
me,  I  will  show  you  one  of  the  glories  of  Blenheim  which 
has  not  been  given."  Taking  his  visitor  outside,  he 
pointed  to  the  stone  trophies  and  the  efRgy  of  Louis 
XIV  which  adorn  the  south  front  of  the  house,  "These," 
he  said,  "were  taken ^  not  given,  by  John,  Duke  of  Marl- 
borough, from  the  gates  of  Tournai."  When  the  Em- 
peror Frederick,  while  Crown  Prince,  once  came  to  stay 
at  Blenheim,  he  was  delighted  with  this  story.  He  was 
a  very  charming  man  and  during  the  few  days  he  was 
there  made  himself  most  agreeable.  Absolutely  simple 
in  his  manners  and  tastes,  English  life  seemed  rather 
luxurious  to  him.  I  remember  his  face  of  astonishment 
when  he  saw  at  breakfast  a  gold  tea-service  which  was 
produced  in  his  honor.  "Ach!  much  too  good,  much  too 
good,"  he  kept  saying,  and  every  morning  he  spoke  of 
its  magnificence. 

Among  the  many  new  acquaintances  I  made  was  that 
of  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  widow  of  the  third  Duke, 
one  of  the  grandes  dames  of  a  former  generation.  She 
had  a  liking  for  Randolph,  and  asked  him  to  bring  me  to 
see  her.  She  was  very  kind  although  she  received 
me  in  a  ceremonious  manner,  not  shaking  hands  but 
courtesying.    A  woman  of  caustic  wit,  many  stories  are 

89 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

told  of  her  and  her  imperious  ways.  The  family  doctor 
having  written  to  her  "My  dear  Duchess,"  she  wrote 
back,  "Sir,  I  am  not  your  dear  Duchess."  Her  succes- 
sor, the  late  Duchess  of  Cleveland  (Lord  Rosebery's 
mother),  was  an  equally  interesting  character  whose 
energy  was  remarkable.  When  long  past  seventy,  she 
was  still  an  habitue  of  the  Row,  never  missing  her  morn- 
ing gallop.  Not  long  before  her  death  she  went  to  In- 
dia accompanied  only  by  her  servants. 

A  delightful  man  who  came  to  stay  at  Blenheim,  was 
Sir  Alexander  Cockburn,  Lord  Chief  Justice  of  Eng- 
land. But  he  was  dangerous!  One  day  out  shooting, 
while  I  was  walking  with  him  from  one  covert  to  an- 
other, he  let  his  gun  off  by  accident.  Luckily  the  shot 
went  over  my  head.  "I  must  be  careful,"  he  said  plac- 
idly. I  fled.  I  remember  asking  him  what  had  been  the 
most  amusing  experience  of  his  legal  career.  In  reply 
he  told  me  the  story  of  a  young  barrister  who  came  into 
court  late,  having  evidently,  from  his  appearance,  dined 
well  but  not  wisely,  the  night  before.  Sir  Alexander 
reprimanded  him,  asking  what  excuse  he  could  offer. 
"None,"  retorted  the  culprit,  "unless  it  is  that  I  had  the 
honor  of  dining  with  your  lordship  last  night,  and  bad 
wine  tells  on  an  empty  stomach."  This  anecdote  may 
not  be  original,  but  Sir  Alexander  Cockburn  told  it  to 
me  as  such. 

When  one  night  the  snipe,  which  abound  at  Blenheim, 
ran  short,  the  Lord  Chief  Justice,  to  his  annoyance,  was 
given  only  half  of  one.  On  leaving,  he  wrote  in  the  Vis- 
itors' Book  some  lines  to  the  effect  that  he  would  share 
almost  everything  in  life,  even  his  wife  (he  not  having 
one) ,  but  not  a  snipe! 

90 


HHR  GRACi;.  I  KANCHS  ANNi;.  Dl  CHESS  OF  MARLBOROUGH 


CHAPTER  V 


IRELAND 


IN  1876  we  decided  to  go  to  America.  Owing  to 
Randolph  having  championed  his  brother  Lord 
Blandford  in  an  unfortunate  affair  in  which  the 
latter  was  implicated,  he  had  had  serious  differences  of 
opinion  with  various  influential  people,  and  he  felt  in 
need  of  a  little  solace  and  distraction.  So,  in  company 
with  Mr.  Traff  ord  and  the  late  Lord  Ilchester,  we  made 
a  flying  trip,  going  first  to  Canada,  where  we  seemed  to 
spend  most  of  the  time  eating  melons  and  having  cold 
baths,  so  overpowering  was  the  heat.  We  saw  Niagara, 
of  course,  and  made  a  visit  to  Newport.  Although  the 
life  there  was  a  great  contrast  to  that  of  Cowes,  savoring 
more  of  to^vn  than  of  country,  we  found  it  one  of  the 
most  fascinating  of  seaside  places,  and  the  hospitality 
and  kindness  shown  us  by  the  friends  of  my  family 
were  most  gratifying.  We  also  went  to  Saratoga,  where 
the  beauty  of  the  ladies,  and  the  gorgeousness  of  the 
dresses,  astonished  the  men  of  our  party.  Having  found 
the  hotel  at  that  place  absurdly  expensive,  I  asked  my 
father  to  remonstrate  with  the  proprietor,  who  replied: 
"The  lord  and  his  wife  would  have  two  rooms,  hence  the 
expense." 

From  there  we  went  to  the  Philadelphia  Exhibition 
which  occupied  us  for  several  days,  and  was  the  source 
^  93 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

of  great  interest  and  amusement.  We  were  accom- 
panied by  my  uncle,  the  late  Mr.  Lawrence  Jerome,  fa- 
ther of  the  present  District  Attorney  of  New  York, 
WilHam  Travers  Jerome.  While  there,  my  uncle,  who 
is  remembered  as  one  of  the  wittiest  men  of  his  day,  kept 
us  in  transports  of  laughter.  When  we  stopped  at  dif- 
ferent stalls,  he  would  come  up  to  us  as  though  we  were 
strangers,  and  taking  up  some  article  or  new  invention, 
would  extol  its  merits  in  such  an  inexpressibly  funny 
manner  and  language  that  a  crowd  soon  collected,  many 
ending  by  buying  the  article.  INIr.  Jerome  would  then 
receive  with  pride  a  commission  from  the  delighted  shop- 
man. During  our  stay  we  had  occasion  to  meet  several 
prominent  Philadelphians.  I  remember  one  in  par- 
ticular, who  entertained  us  vastly,  by  remarking  to  Mr. 
TrafFord  that  Randolph  was  a  "bright  fellow,"  but  it 
was  a  pity  he  had  such  an  "English  accent."  The  same 
man  asked  me  if  I  knew  Cyrus  B.  Choate,  and  when  I 
answered  in  the  negative,  exclaimed,  "Not  know  Cyrus 
B.  Choate!  Why,  he  is  one  of  our  most  magnificent 
humans!"  We  left  Philadelphia  with  regret,  and,  stay- 
ing only  a  few  days  in  New  York,  returned  to  England, 
feeling  in  spite  of  our  short  stay  invigorated  and  re- 
freshed by  contact  with  the  alert  intellects  of  my  com- 
patriots. 

On  our  arrival  in  London  we  found  that  the  Duke 
of  Marlborough  had  been  appointed  Viceroy  of  Ireland. 
This  post  Lord  Beaconsfield  had  pressed  him  to  accept, 
thinking  that  it  might  distract  his  thoughts  from  certain 
family  worries  which  at  that  time  were  weighing  rather 
heavily  upon  him.  Hating  to  be  parted  from  Randolph, 
his  father  and  mother  persuaded  him  to  go  with  them  to 

94 


•A 

< 
Z 


H 

a 


u 
z 

G 
35 


< 


■A 

S 
H 

<: 
u 


-1 
n 

a 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Ireland.  Not  being  in  favor  with  the  Court,  from  which 
London  society  took  its  lead,  we  were  nothing  loath  to 
go.  Randolph  was  to  act  as  unpaid  private  secretary  to 
the  Duke.  This  unofficial  post  proved  to  be  of  the  great- 
est interest  and  value  to  him,  diverting  his  mind  from  the 
frivolous  society  to  which  he  had  till  then  been  rather 
addicted  and  which  now  had  ceased  to  smile  upon  him. 

Accompanying  the  new  Lord  Lieutenant,  we  took 
part  in  the  State  Entry  into  Dublin,  which  was  con- 
ducted with  the  usual  military  display,  and  viceregal 
etiquette.  The  Duke  in  uniform  rode  with  a  glittering 
staff  round  him.  The  rest  of  the  family,  in  carriages 
with  postilions  and  outriders,  drove  through  the  crowded 
streets  to  the  black  and  grimy  old  Castle,  which  for  cen- 
turies has  witnessed  these  processions  come  and  go. 

In  view  of  the  repeated  attacks  made  during  the  last 
century  on  the  Irish  Viceroyalty,  it  is  strange  that  it  still 
exists  and  is  apparently  flourishing.  In  the  old  days  of 
slow  travel  and  no  telegraph,  when  it  took  a  week  to  get 
to  Dublin,  things  were  very  different,  and  one  can  un- 
derstand the  pomp  and  circumstance  with  which  the 
representative  of  the  Sovereign  necessarily  surrounded 
himself.  In  India,  the  Eastern  mind  has  to  be  impressed 
with  the  glamour  of  royalty.  In  the  distant  colonies, 
Canada,  Australia,  New  Zealand  and  others.  Govern- 
ment House  is  a  great  feature,  and  the  governors  are 
men  of  responsibility.  But  what  is  the  raison  d'etre  of 
the  Dublin  Court,  which  is  within  a  few  hours  of  Lon- 
don and  in  direct  communication  by  telegraph  and  tele- 
phone with  Downing  Street?  The  Lord  Lieutenant, 
however  intelligent  and  ambitious  he  may  be,  who  is  not 
in  the  Cabinet  is  but  a  figurehead,  a  purveyor  of  amuse- 

97 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

ments  for  the  Irish  officials  and  the  Dubhn  tradespeople, 
on  whom  he  is  obliged  to  lavish  his  hospitality  and  his 
money,  with  no  return  and  no  thanks.  The  wives  of  the 
Viceroys  labor  in  good  works,  each  in  turn  vying  with 
the  other  in  charitable  ardor.  But  these  philanthropic 
works  could  be  carried  on  just  as  well  if  they  did  not 
emanate  from  the  Castle.  The  ingratitude  of  the  people 
must  be  very  disheartening  to  each  successive  Viceroy. 
However  popular  the  Lord  Lieutenant  and  his  wife  may 
have  been,  however  successful  their  attempts  to  cajole, 
conciliate  and  entertain — though  out  of  their  private 
means  they  may  have  spent  money  like  water — in  a  week 
all  is  forgotten.  The  new  regime  is  paramount:  Le  roi 
est  mort:  vive  le  roi!  If  the  Lord  Lieutenant  carries  out 
with  tact  and  success  the  policy  of  the  Government,  the 
credit  is  taken  by  the  Ministry.  If,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  policy  is  a  failure,  he  gets  the  blame,  or,  worse  still, 
is  repudiated  in  the  House  of  Commons  and  told  that 
the  opinion  of  the  Lord  Lieutenant  is  of  no  account.  It 
is  a  marvel  to  me  that  any  one  can  be  found  to  accept  so 
ungrateful  a  post.  The  Duke  of  Marlborough  was  pre- 
ceded by  the  Duke  of  Abercorn,  whose  delightful  per- 
sonality and  extraordinary  good  looks  were  long  remem- 
bered. "Old  Magnificent,"  as  he  was  called,  was  very 
fond  of  effect,  and  when  making  his  State  Entry  into 
Dublin  insisted  on  the  ladies  of  his  family  wearing  long- 
flowing  veils,  that  streamed  behind  as  they  drove  in  the 
procession  through  the  streets.  Stories  are  told  of  his 
having  the  Drawing  Room  stopped  while  he  combed  and 
scented  his  beard,  disarranged  by  the  chaste  salutes  of 
the  debutantes,  who,  if  they  were  pretty,  were  made  to 
pass  the  dais  again.    Of  late  years  the  Dublin  Drawing 

98 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Rooms  have  become  so  conventional  that  they  no  longer 
afford  the  amusement  they  once  provided.  In  old  days 
St.  Patrick's  Ball,  which  always  takes  place  on  the  17th 
of  March  and  marks  the  close  of  the  season,  was  a  reg- 
ular bear  garden,  at  which  sentries  were  needed  to  pre- 
vent the  company  from  appropriating  the  plate  as  well 
as  the  food.  People  picnicked  sitting  on  the  floor 
of  the  supper  rooms.  As  for  the, clothes,  they  were  fear- 
fully and  wonderfully  made!  Curtains  often  did  duty 
for  trains.  I  have  myself  seen  a  lady  in  a  black  dress 
with  a  white  train,  and,  in  order  to  carry  out  the  magpie 
effect,  one  shoe  was  white,  the  other  black ! 

Randolph  and  I,  with  our  boy  Winston,  took  up  our 
abode  at  the  Private  Secretary's  lodge  in  the  Phoenix 
Park.  I  found  the  Irish  life  very  pleasant  with  its 
various  occupations  and  amusements,  and  I  delighted  in 
the  genial  character  and  ready  wit  of  the  people.  Dur- 
ing the  three  years  we  lived  there  I  cannot  remember 
meeting  one  really  dull  man.  From  the  Lord  Chief 
Justice  to  the  familiar  carman,  all  were  entertaining. 

Momentous  political  work  was  going  on.  The  Gov- 
ernment was  struggling  with  the  feeling  of  revolt  which 
at  that  time  was  smoldering  beneath  the  surface,  besides 
trying  to  cope  with  a  famine  which  was  breaking  out. 
The  Duchess  of  Marlborough  at  this  juncture  came 
forward  with  her  usual  energy  and  started  an  Irish 
Relief  Fund,  which  ultimately  reached  the  figure  of 
£135,000  [$675,000].  This  sum  was  distributed  in  such 
a  practical  and  businesslike  manner  that  even  the 
Nationalist  Press  was  obliged  to  praise  these  viceregal 
endeavors.  The  success  of  the  scheme  added  greatly  to 
the  Duchess's  popularity,  and  to  that  of  the  Lord  Lieu- 

99 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

tenant.  Queen  Victoria,  whose  sympathy  and  appre- 
ciation were  always  very  keen  in  any  matters  connected 
with  charity,  was  greatly  pleased,  and  complimented 
the  Duchess  in  the  accompanying  letter : 

Windsor  Castle.    April  19,  1880. 
Dear  Duchess, 

I,  as  every  one  is,  am  filled  with  admiration  at  the  indefati- 
gable zeal  and  devotion  with  which  you  have  so  successfully 
laboured  to  relieve  the  distress  in  Ireland.  I  am  therefore  anx- 
ious to  mark  my  sense  of  3'our  services  at  this  moment  when 
alas !  they  will  so  soon  be  lost  to  Ireland,  and  wish  to  confer  on 
you  the  Third  Class  of  the  Victoria  and  Albert  Order.  I  will 
wait  till  you  come  over  to  invest  you  with  it. 

Believe  me  always. 

Yours  affectly, 

Victoria,  R.  I. 

The  Duchess  was  very  proud  of  this  letter,  and  her 
grandson,  the  present  Duke,  told  me  a  somewhat  pa- 
thetic incident  in  connection  with  it.  A  little  while  be- 
fore her  death  she  sent  for  him  and  gave  it  to  him  "to  be 
kept  in  the  archives  of  Blenheim,"  adding,  "I  may  seem 
a  useless  old  woman  now,  but  this  letter  will  show  you  I 
was  once  of  some  importance  and  did  good  in  my  day." 

Hunting  became  our  ruling  passion.  Whenever  I 
could  "beg,  borrow  or  steal"  a  horse  I  did  so.  We  had  a 
few  hunters  of  our  own  which  we  rode  indiscriminately, 
being  both  of  us  light-weights.  Some  of  my  best  days 
with  the  Meath  and  Kildare  hounds  I  owed  to  a  little 
brown  mare  I  bought  from  Simmons  at  Oxford,  who 
negotiated  the  "trappy"  fences  of  the  Kildare  country, 
and  the  banks  and  narrow  doubles  of  Meath  as  though 

100 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CIUKCHILL  LN   RIDING  COSTUME 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

to  the  manner  born.  Many  were  the  "tosses"  I  "took," 
as  the  Irish  papers  used  to  describe  them,  but  it  was  glo- 
rious sport,  and,  to  my  mind,  even  hunting  in  Leicester- 
shire later  on  could  not  compare  with  it.  With  the 
exception  of  the  Ward  Union  Stag  Hounds  and  the 
Galway  Blazers,  I  think  we  hunted  with  nearly  every 
pack  of  hounds  in  Ireland. 

Colonel  Forster,  who  was  then  Master  of  the  Horse, 
as  he  had  been  to  several  previous  viceroys,  was  a  beauti- 
ful rider,  and  many  were  the  pleasant  hunting  days  we 
had  together.  I  remember  once  he,  Randolph  and  I  sal- 
lying forth,  each  on  a  gray, — mine,  which  I  afterward 
sold  to  the  King  of  the  Sandwich  Islands,  had  a  tail  like 
a  shaving-brush,  looking  for  all  the  world  like  one  of 
Leech's  pictures.  The  trio  fancied  themselves,  to  say 
the  least  of  it,  and  vast  sums  would  not  have  bought  us 
at  our  own  estimation.  But  alas !  in  a  very  short  time  our 
pride  had  a  fall  in  every  sense.  Colonel  Forster's  horse 
lamed  itself  early  in  the  day;  Randolph's  animal,  after 
refusing  for  half  an  hour  to  face  a  yawning  chasm,  was 
pushed  into  it  by  its  irate  owner,  while  mine  was  caught 
broadside  by  a  heavy  gate  I  was  going  through,  and 
horse  and  rider  were  uj)set  in  the  adjoining  deep  ditch. 
Luckily  I  fell  clear,  but  it  looked  as  if  I  must  be  crushed 
underneath  him,  and  Randolph,  coming  up  at  that  mo- 
ment, thought  I  was  killed.  A  few  seconds  later,  how- 
ever, seeing  me  all  right,  in  the  excitement  of  the  mo- 
ment, he  seized  my  flask  and  emptied  it.  For  many  days 
it  was  a  standing  joke  against  him  that  I  had  had  the 
fall,  and  he  the  whisky ! 

The  ready  wit  of  the  Irish  is  proverbial  and  we  had 
many  opportunities  of  judging  of  it  during  our  stay. 

103 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

One  day  we  met  our  friend  Colonel  Forster  being  driven 
to  a  meet  in  an  Irish  car.  He  was  laughing  heartily  and 
told  us  that  he  had  just  passed  a  young  man  riding  who 
evidently  fancied  himself,  from  the  way  he  was  first 
gazing  at  his  boots,  then  smoothing  his  coat  and  patting 
his  waistcoat.  "Who  is  it?"  inquired  Colonel  Forster. 
"Ah,  bedad,  Colonel,  I  'm  thinking  that  maybe  he  is  not 
knowing  it  rightly  himself,  by  the  way  he  is  looking  at 
himself,"  answered  the  car  driver.  Another  witty  car- 
man was  driving  a  relation  of  mine  to  a  meet  of  the 
Ward  Union  Hounds,  who,  fearing  to  be  late,  pressed 
him  to  whip  up  his  horse.  "D'  ye  see  that?"  said  the 
jarvey,  pointing  to  a  mommient  in  Glasnevin  Cemetery, 
which  they  were  passing.  "That  was  put  up  to  the 
gintleman  I  was  driving  the  last  time  I  sthruck  th'  auld 
mare!" 

Returning  from  Punchestown  races  once,  the  crowd 
was  so  great  that  the  viceregal  carriage  got  blocked, 
when  some  one,  pointing  at  the  aide-de-camp  in  full  uni- 
form and  cocked  hat  who  was  sitting  opposite  the  Lord 
Lieutenant,  shouted,  much  to  the  poor  man's  confusion, 
"Faith,  it  's  the  Captain  that  's  doin'  the  escortin'  and 
chaperonin'  to-day!" 

Every  sportsman  knows  what  it  is  to  ride  over  a  coun- 
try while  looking  out  of  the  window  on  a  railway  jour- 
ney. How  bold  one  is!  How  small  the  fences  seem! 
and  how  one  wishes  with  Jorrocks  that  one  could  be  "a 
heagle  a-soaring  o'er  the  'ounds!"  Colonel  Forster  who 
was  traveling  was  vaguely  tapping  with  his  fingers  on 
the  arm  of  his  seat,  when  a  stranger,  who  was  at  the  op- 
posite window  suddenly  said,  "You  were  wrong— you 
should  have  'trigged'  at  that  fence,"  meaning  that  if 

104 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

the  Colonel  was  hunting,  which  he  of  course  thought  he 
must  6^^  the  horse  would  have  kicked  back,  and  this  ought 
to  have  been  illustrated  by  two  taps  of  his  fingers,  not  one. 
At  that  time  the  great  excitement  in  the  hunting  field 
was  the  advent  of  the  Empress  Elizabeth  of  Austria, 
who  had  taken  a  place  in  Meath  for  a  few  months.  The 
whole  country  was  agog,  and  crowds  used  to  flock  to  tlie 
meets  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  her.  The  Empress,  although 
her  reputation  for  physical  endurance  and  love  of  riding 
was  great  in  the  sporting  world,  astonished  every  one  b}^ 
the  indefatigable  life  she  led.  Arriving  at  Summerhill, 
from  Vienna,  without  a  break  she  donned  a  habit  in  the 
train,  got  on  a  horse,  and  before  going  into  the  house 
went  for  a  school  over  a  small  course  which  had  been 
specially  prepared  by  her  orders.  Lord  Langford,  the 
owner  of  Summerhill,  had,  with  much  care  and  at  con- 
siderable expense,  furnished  a  boudoir  for  her  which  was 
hung  in  blue  damask,  and  decorated  with  pictures  and 
china.  However,  before  the  Empress  had  been  there 
twenty-four  hours,  disdaining  such  feminine  frivolities, 
she  converted  it  into  a  gymnasium,  in  which  to  exercise 
daily  before  going  out  hunting.  With  a  wonderful  fig- 
ure and  a  beautiful  seat  on  a  horse  her  Majesty  made  a 
fine  appearance.  She  rode  gallantly  and  knew  no  fear, 
but  her  riding  was  of  the  haute  ecole  order,  and  like 
most  women  she  could  seldom  make  a  horse  gallop.  This 
was  a  source  of  perpetual  worry  to  her  hard-riding  pilot. 
Captain  Bay  Middleton,  whose  "Come  on,  Madam, 
come  on!"  was  constantly  heard  in  the  field.  The  Em- 
press wore  the  tightest  of  habits  buttoned  down  and 
strapped  in  every  direction,  the  safety  skirt  not  having 
as  yet  made  its  appearance.    She  found  herself  in  many 

105 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

a  ditch,  and  whether  she  fell  clear  of  her  horse  or  not,  it 
was  impossible  for  her  to  stand  up  until  the  buttons  and 
straps  had  been  unfastened.  Under  the  circumstances 
it  was  a  marvel  that  she  did  not  hurt  herself.  It  was  her 
invariable  custom  to  ride  with  a  large  fan,  which  she  held 
opened  between  her  face  and  the  crowd,  whether  against 
the  rays  of  the  sun  or  the  gaze  of  the  people  I  never 
made  out.  Another  curious  habit  of  hers  was  to  use 
small  squares  of  rice  paper  in  the  Japanese  fashion  in- 
stead of  pocket-handkerchiefs;  by  these  she  could  be 
traced  for  miles,  as  in  a  paper  chase. 

Much  to  the  chagrin  of  the  Viceregal  Court  the  Em- 
press never  came  near  it,  not  wishing  to  lose  a  single 
day's  sport  while  in  the  country.  But  all  those  who  came 
in  contact  with  her  were  fascinated  by  her  graciousness 
and  her  imposing  beauty.  It  is  sad  to  think  that  one 
who  had  never  harmed  any  one,  and  was  beloved  by  all  in 
her  own  country,  should  have  met  a  tragic  end  at  the 
hands  of  an  obscure  miscreant. 

The  following  year  the  Viceroy  had  occasion  to  enter- 
tain the  Archduke  Rudolph,  who  had  come  to  Ireland  on 
a  short  visit.  At  a  grand  ball  given  in  his  honor  in  St. 
Patrick's  Hall  an  unfortunate  occurrence  happened. 
The  Lord  Mayor  of  Dublin  being  present,  and  being  in 
his  own  province,  had  an  arm-chair  on  the  dais  next  to 
the  Viceroy,  but  by  some  oversight  none  was  placed  for 
the  Archduke.  This  gave  great  offense,  and  to  add  to 
the  "tempest  in  a  tea-cup,"  the  Lord  Mayor  was  made 
to  take  precedence  of  the  Heir  Apparent  of  Austria  and 
Hungary,  and  went  in  to  supper  before  him.  Next  day 
many  apologies  were  offered  and  the  viceregal  staff 
were  properly  trounced,  but  the  royal  visitor,  unap- 

106 


THE  MARQi:iS  OF  LONUO.NUliRRY 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

peased,  departed.  Who  could  have  prophesied  that  he, 
too,  in  a  few  years  would  come  under  the  ban,  and  share 
the  evil  fate  of  the  House  of  Hapsburg  ? 

During  the  three  years  of  the  Duke  of  Marlborough's 
tenure  of  office  we  saw  a  good  deal  of  Ireland,  as  he  took 
various  places.  At  Knockdrin  Castle,  in  Westmeath, 
where  we  stayed  for  a  few  months,  we  enjoyed  the  hunt- 
ing, for  the  foxes  were  as  wild  there  as  the  people  were 
untamed.  We  thought  nothing  of  going  to  the  meet 
fifteen  or  twenty  miles  on  an  outside  car,  and  often  rode 
our  horses  to  a  standstill  in  very  long  runs.  After  one 
of  these  I  remember  shocking  the  Lord  Lieutenant's 
local  guests  by  falling  asleep  during  dinner. 

One  winter  my  father-in-law  had  Lord  Sligo's  place 
at  Westport,  County  Mayo,  where  the  snipe-shooting 
afforded  excellent  sport.  Among  the  works  of  art  in  the 
house  was  a  celebrated  statue  of  a  tinted  Venus,  whose 
blue  eyes  and  golden  locks  were  rather  too  realistic  to  my 
mind  for  true  beauty.  In  our  walks  we  had  many  op- 
portunities of  seeing  the  heartrending  poverty  of  the 
peasantry,  who  lived  in  their  \vretched  mud  hovels  more 
like  animals  than  human  beings.  Alas !  I  fear  these  de- 
plorable conditions  must  ever  prevail  in  Ireland,  where 
neglect  and  misery  have  rooted  the  people  in  their  shift- 
less and  improvident  habits.  No  philanthropic  scheme 
seems  really  to  touch  them. 

We  also  visited  Galway  and  Connemara,  whose  me- 
lodious name  prepared  one  for  the  beauty  of  its  scenery, 
enhanced  as  it  was  by  the  delights  of  trout-fishing. 
Muckross  Abbey,  on  the  Lake  of  Killarney,  famed  alike 
for  its  shooting  and  its  scenery,  had  been  taken  by  Lord 
and  Lady  Wimborne,   with  whom  we  often   stayed. 

109 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

From  there  we  sometimes  went  over  to  Kenmare  close 
by,  one  of  the  show-plaees  of  Ireland,  where  the  details 
of  the  house  were  carried  out  in  such  perfection  that 
even  the  door-handles  were  made  of  old  watchcases. 

But  this  magnificence  was  exceptional  and  I  was 
often  reminded  of  the  descriptions  in  "Charles  O'Mal- 
ley"  of  the  improvidence  and  extravagance  of  the  Irish. 
Sometimes  on  the  roadside  one  might  see  a  splendid 
gateway,  whose  stone  pillars  and  iron-wrought  gates 
stood  in  solitary  grandeur  leading  to  nothing,  all  the 
money  having  been  spent  on  the  approach,  and  none  be- 
ing left  for  the  house. 

Among  the  most  delightful  personalities  I  met  during 
those  three  years  was  Father  Healy,  vicar  of  Bray  near 
Kingstown.  He  was  one  of  the  most  celebrated  Irish 
wits  of  the  day,  and  his  genial  manner  and  kind  heart 
made  him  a  most  pleasant  companion.  He  and  Mr. 
Isaac  Butt  often  dined  with  us  at  our  little  house  in  the 
Phoenix  Park. 

Mr.  Butt  was  very  friendly,  not  to  say  homely,  but 
although  he  could  tell  a  good  story  in  an  amusing  way, 
I  confess  I  thought  him  rather  too  serious,  constantly 
dwelling  on  the  miseries  and  oppression  of  his  country- 
men. He  would  appeal  to  me  as  an  American  to  agree 
with  him  and  when  in  rash  moments  I  did,  would  then 
declare  I  was  a  Home  Ruler.  The  words  "Home  Rule" 
were  the  invention  of  Butt.  He  thought  the  old  cry  of 
"Repeal"  would  frighten  the  English,  while  the  phrase 
Home  Rule  would  commend  itself  to  every  one  as  rea- 
sonable and  innocent.  The  echoes  of  our  conversations 
would  sometimes  reach  the  ears  of  the  Viceroy,  and  be 
thought  great  heresy. 

110 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Of  our  many  habitues,  besides  Professor  Mahaffy  of 
Greek  fame,  Dr.  Nedley  another  Irish  wit,  Lord  Morris, 
and  Lord  Ashbourne  (Lord  Chancellor  of  Ireland), 
Lord  Justice  FitzGibbon  was  the  most  intimate.  It 
was  there  that  the  friendship  began  which  lasted  to 
the  end  of  Randolph's  life.  FitzGibbon  had  a  house  at 
Howth,  where  every  Christmas  he  assembled  a  select 
number  of  boon  companions — Randolph  invariably 
being  of  the  number. 

Lord  Randolph  Churchill  was  obliged  to  be  in  Lon- 
don a  good  deal  during  this  time  to  attend  to  his 
parliamentary  duties.  The  letters  he  wrote  to  me  in 
Ireland  were  full  of  politics. 

S.  James'  Club.     Piccadilly.     W. 

January  28,  1878. 

I  missed  the  afternoon  post  because  the  discussion  lasted  till 
eight  o'clock.  I  am  sure  the  debate  will  be  very  stormy.  I  am 
in  great  doubt  what  to  do.  I  think  I  could  make  a  telling  speech 
against  the  Government,  but  old  Bentinck  got  hold  of  me  to-day 
and  gave  me  a  tremendous  lecture.  Of  course  I  have  my  future 
to  think  of,  and  I  also  have  strong  opinions  against  the  Govern- 
ment policy.  It  is  very  difficult.  I  shan't  decide  till  the  last 
night  of  debate,  which  won't  be  till  next  Monday  or  Tuesday, 
so  my  departure  for  Ireland  will  be  postponed. 

Northcote  made  a  very  feeble  speech  to-night  and  the  country 
every  day  gets  more  and  more  against  the  Government.  Rus- 
sia's terms  of  peace  are  monstrous,  but  after  all  it  concerns  Aus- 
tria so  much  more  than  us,  and  if  she  won't  move  we  are 
practically  powerless. 

I  had  a  pleasant  evening  last  night  at  Dilke's.  .  .  .  Harcourt, 

111 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

G.  Trevelyan,  Dicey,  editor  of  "The  Observer,"  and  Sir  Henry 
Maine.  Harcourt  was  very  amusing.  You  need  not  be  afraid 
of  these  Radicals,  they  have  no  influence  on  me  further  than  I 
hke  to  go,  but  I  hate  the  Government.  .  .  . 

My  visits  to  London  at  that  time  were  few  and  far  be- 
tween, but  on  one  of  these,  in  the  summer  of  1878, 1  had 
the  privilege  of  going  with  a  few  other  ladies  to  the 
"Peace  with  Honor"  banquet  which  was  given  in  the 
Wellington  Riding  School  in  honor  of  Lord  Beacons- 
field  and  Lord  Salisbury  on  their  return  from  their  suc- 
cessful participation  in  the  Berlin  Conference.  I  went 
with  the  Duchess  of  Wellington,  arm-chairs  being 
placed  in  the  center  of  the  huge  building.  It  was  a 
wonderful  sight,  and  the  enthusiasm  was  boundless  when 
Lord  Beaconsfield,  looking  like  a  black  sphinx,  rose  to 
speak.  It  was  on  that  occasion  that,  pointing  with  a 
scornful  finger  at  Mr.  Gladstone,  he  declared  that  he 
was  "inebriated  with  the  exuberance  of  his  own 
verbosity." 

The  following  year,  the  Duke  of  Marlborough  having 
given  up  the  Viceroyalty  and  left  Ireland  for  good,  we 
also  departed,  returning  to  London. 

In  the  summer  of  1881  Randolph  and  I  went  again  to 
the  United  States  on  a  short  visit.  When  in  New  York 
we  heard  of  the  Phoenix  Park  murders.  The  Kilmain- 
ham  Treaty  had  just  been  arranged,  Parnell  having 
promised  to  put  down  outrage.  Mr.  Forster  had  re- 
signed, and  Lord  Frederick  Cavendish  had  been  ap- 
pointed Chief  Secretary  for  Ireland  in  his  place.  I 
remember  a  reporter  calling  at  my  father's  house  in 
Madison  Square  and  telling  me  the  news.     We  were 

112 


THE  MARCHIONESS  01-"  LONDONDERRY 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

greatly  shocked  and  could  hardly  believe  it  until  it  was 
confirmed  the  next  day.  I  had  never  met  Lord  Fred- 
erick Cavendish,  but  JSIr.  Burke,  the  other  victim,  who 
with  his  sister  lived  at  the  Under  Secretary's  lodge  in 
the  Phoenix  Park,  we  knew  quite  well.  The  outcome 
of  this  dastardly  deed  was  of  course  the  Prevention  of 
Crimes  Act,  which  was  passed  at  once. 

Curiously  enough,  I  had  occasion  later  to  see  the 
murderers,  just  before  their  condemnation.  Although 
we  had  left  Ireland,  I  rarely  missed  paying  a  visit,  either 
to  the  Castle  during  the  season,  or  to  the  Viceregal 
Lodge  for  the  Punchestown  races. 

I  was  staying  in  Dublin  for  the  Horse  Show  when  I 
met  an  official  of  Kilmainham  Gaol,  who,  owing  a  debt 
of  gratitude  to  Randolph,  wanted  to  show  me  some 
civility,  and  therefore  thought  of  nothing  better  than  to 
invite  me  to  see  Kilmainham  and  the  murderers.  I  con- 
fess that  I  did  not  feel  any  great  desire  for  this  enter- 
tainment, but  being  told  that  it  was  nearly  impossible 
to  get  permission  to  see  them,  and  that  without  excep- 
tion no  one  was  allowed  in  the  prison,  I  began  to  feel 
more  interested.    Under  the  seal  of  the  greatest  secrecy 

I  found  my  way  to  the  gaol,  where  I  met  jMr. .    He 

took  me  into  a  small  room  and  told  me  to  stand  behind 
his  chair  while  he  interviewed  the  prisoners  one  by  one. 
They  looked  apprehensively  toward  me,  but  my  friend 
reassured  them  by  saying  they  need  not  mind  as  I  was  a 
relation.  He  only  kept  them  a  minute  or  two  putting 
some  trivial  questions.  The  youngest  of  them,  as  he  was 
passing  out,  suddenly  turned  and  asked  me  to  help  his 
wife  if  he  "had  to  go."  This  depressed  me  dreadfully, 
nor  were  my  spirits  raised  by  being  taken  round  the 

115 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

prison  by  the  Governor,  whom  Mr.  had  somehow 

"squared."  The  tier  upon  tiers  of  tiny  cells,  each  con- 
taining a  miserable-looking  man,  the  food  brought  in 
baskets  which  I  saw  prodded  through  and  through  with 
swords  for  fear  that  something  might  be  smuggled  in 
them,  were  a  more  than  unpleasant  sight.  I  saw  Carey, 
the  informer,  who  was  occupying  the  same  room  in 
which  Parnell  had  been  imprisoned.  Carey  was  in  his 
shirt-sleeves  and  glared  at  us.  Just  as  I  was  going  to 
leave  and  while  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  building, 

talking  to  the  Governor  and  Mr.  ,  an  electric  bell 

rang  and  a  warder  came  running  up  and  whispered 
something  to  the  Governor.  He  became  rather  pale  and 
passed  his  news  on  to  my  friend,  who  seemed  equally  dis- 
turbed. They  both  looked  at  me,  and  when  I  asked 
what  had  happened,  the  Governor  said  the  Inspector- 
General  was  coming  to  pay  a  surprise  visit  to  the  prison 
and  was  at  that  moment  at  the  gates,  and  that  if  I  were 
found  there  without  a  permit  signed  by  the  Lord  Lieu- 
tenant, they  would  get  into  great  trouble.  "Well,  let 
me  fly,"  I  exclaimed.  "Impossible,"  they  cried;  "there 
is  no  outlet."  "Well,  hide  me."  "You  can't  hide  in  a 
prison!"  "One  moment,"  said  the  Governor  hesi- 
tatingly, "would  you  mind  a  cell?"  "Of  course  not,"  I 
replied,  and  forthwith  I  was  hurried  into  a  cell — a  black 
cell,  as  being  safer  from  the  Inspector's  prying  eyes. 
The  door  was  shut  on  me,  and  I  felt  not  "on  velvet,"  but 
in  velvet  of  the  blackest  dye.  After  a  time  the  velvet 
became  thick  black  wool,  and  I  was  certain  it  was  clos- 
ing round  me.  Hours  seemed  to  pass  and  I  began  to 
think  I  was  forgotten.  My  mind  wandered  from  black 
wool  to  rats— and  I  felt  sure  I  saw  little  beady  eyes 

116 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

looking  at  me,  when  the  door  opened  just  in  time  to 
save  me  from  screaming.  I  was  in  that  cell  twenty 
minutes  at  the  outside,  but  it  was  enough  of  such  an  ex- 
perience. Later  I  could  not  help  laughing  to  think  of 
the  face  of  the  Inspector — an  acquaintance,  by  the  way 
— had  he  happened  to  visit  my  dungeon.  I  kept  my 
counsel  for  more  than  three  years  after  the  execution  of 
those  wretched  men,  and  never  mentioned  my  visit  to  a 
soul  for  fear  of  doing  harm. 

Under  such  terrorism  did  every  one  live  at  that  time 
in  Ireland  that  Lord  Spencer,  who  was  then  Viceroy, 
never  moved  without  an  escort  of  Constabulary  even 
when  hunting.  It  was  comical  to  see  them  in  full  uni- 
form, their  swords  bounding  in  the  air  as  they  careered 
over  the  fences  after  the  sporting  Lord  Lieutenant. 

During  the  Jubilee  year  of  Queen  Victoria  I  revisited 
the  Viceregal  Court  when  Lord  Londonderry  was  Vice- 
roy. Ireland  was  again  suffering  under  the  Crimes  Bill, 
which  had  been  carried  by  the  closure.  Mr.  Balfour 
(than  whom,  with  his  back  to  the  wall,  there  is  no  better 
fighter)  was  Chief  Secretary,  and  was  beginning  that 
policy  of  repression  which  only  a  strong  man  could  have 
carried  out.  There  was  much  unrest  in  the  country  and 
the  air  was  full  of  disquietude  and  rumors.  The  Gov- 
ernment no  doubt  was  again  going  through  anxious 
times,  but  the  visitors  at  the  Castle  saw  only  the  sunny 
side.  The  festivities  of  the  Dublin  season  were  taking 
place  with  perhaps  even  more  animation  than  usual, 
owing  to  the  popularity  of  the  Lord  Lieutenant  and 
Lady  Londonderry,  who  was  not  only  a  perfect  hostess, 
but  the  most  indefatigable  worker  in  the  many  chari- 
table schemes  she  had  set  on  foot.    Later,  when  having 

6  -^^^^ 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

left  Ireland  she  returned  to  London,  her  salon  became 
and  has  continued  to  be  a  political  center,  of  which  she 
is  the  presiding  genius.  An  omniverous  reader,  blessed 
with  a  retentive  memory,  her  conversational  powers  are 
great,  and  her  influence  and  interest  in  the  political 
world  have  been  most  valuable  to  her  family  and 
friends.  If  her  receptions  are  perhaps  too  crowded,  the 
battalions  of  a  large  Conservative  Party  are  to  blame. 
Everything  that  year  was  dubbed  "Jubilee,"  from 
knights  and  babies  to  hats  and  coats.  "God  save  the 
Queen"  was  heard  ad  nauseam  on  every  conceivable  oc- 
casion, until  the  tune  became  an  obsession.  This  led  to 
a  practical  joke  at  the  Castle  which  caused  much  amuse- 
ment. One  morning,  speaking  of  the  Jubilee  craze,  I 
pretended  that  I  had  received  as  an  advertisement  a 
"Jubilee  bustle"which  would  play  "God  save  the  Qu^en" 
when  the  wearer  sat  down.  This,  of  course,  created 
much  curiosity  and  laughter.  Having  promised  to  put 
it  on,  I  took  my  hosts  into  my  confidence.  An  aide-de- 
camp was  pressed  into  the  service,  and  armed  vdth  a 
small  musical  box  was  made  to  hide  under  a  particular 
arm-chair.  While  the  company  was  at  luncheon  I  re- 
tired to  don  the  so-called  "Jubilee  wonder,"  and  when 
they  were  all  assembled  I  marched  in  solemnly  and 
slowly  sat  down  on  the  arm-chair  where  the  poor  aide-de- 
camp was  hiding  his  cramped  limbs.  To  the  delight  and 
astonishment  of  every  one  the  National  Anthem  was 
heard  gently  tinkling  forth.  Every  time  I  rose  it 
stopped;  every  time  I  sat  down,  it  began  again.  I  still 
laugh  when  I  think  of  it  and  of  the  astonished  faces 
about  me. 


118 


CHAPTER  VI 

LONDON,  1880  — POLITICAL  LIFE 

THE  new  Parliament  of  1880  found  us  established 
with  our  household  gods  in  the  little  house  we 
had  taken  in  London  in  St.  James's  Place.  It 
was  next  door  to  Sir  Stafford  Northcote,  then  leader  of 
the  Opposition.  Little  did  the  kind  old  gentleman 
realize  at  that  time  his  proximity  to  the  hornets'  nest 
which  was  being  built  by  the  Fourth  Party. 

Randolph  had  been  reelected  for  Woodstock,  defeat- 
ing the  Liberal  candidate,  ]\Ir.  W.  Hall.  The  contest 
was  not  an  exciting  one,  although  many  of  the  constit- 
uents were  dissatisfied  and  full  of  grumblings  and 
complaints.  They  fancied  themselves  neglected,  from 
the  owners  of  Blenheim  being  absent  in  Ireland  for  so 
many  years.  Nevertheless,  I  was  confident  that  we 
should  win,  having  too  many  good  friends  in  the  constit- 
uency to  fear  a  rebuff. 

Randolph,  whose  interest  in  politics  had  become  very 
keen  during  his  stay  in  Ireland,  now  became  entirely  ab- 
sorbed by  them.  During  this  session  the  Bradlaugh  in- 
cident arose  in  which  he  took  so  prominent  a  part.  I, 
too,  caught  the  fever,  and  went  frequently  to  the  House 
of  Commons,  listening  with  growing  interest  to  the 
debates.     The  Ladies'  Gallery,  for  which  one  ballots, 

119 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

and  the  Speaker's  Gallery,  to  which  one  is  invited  by  the 
Speaker's  wife,  were  not  in  those  days  the  fashionable 
places  of  resort  they  have  since  become.  Only  a  few 
ultra-political  ladies  frequented  them.  In  the  Speaker's 
Gallery,  Mrs.  Gladstone,  picturesque  and  dignified,  al- 
ways occupied  a  reserved  seat,  from  which  she  was  sel- 
dom absent.  Miss  Balfour,  too,  was  generally  there. 
Mrs.  Cavendish  Bentinck,  a  tall,  handsome  woman, 
whose  flashing  eyes  and  raven  locks  had  gained  for  her 
among  her  friends  the  name  of  "Britannia,"  and  whose 
son  married  Miss  Livingston  of  New  York,  was  also  an 
habitue  and  literally  seemed  to  live  there.  Later,  Mrs. 
Chamberlain  joined  the  group.  But  the  gay  butterflies 
of  society  thought  it  too  serious  a  place  for  them.  Now, 
however,  this  has  quite  changed.  The  present  generation 
are  full  of  the  desire  of  being,  or  appearing  to  be, 
serious.  To  be  beautiful  and  rich  is  not  sufficient;  the 
real  social  leaders  of  to-day  are  not  content  with  these 
accidents  of  birth  and  fortune.  They  aspire  to  political 
influence,  or  to  be  thought  literary  and  artistic,  and 
society  follows  the  lead.  For  an  interesting  debate,  or 
to  hear  a  popular  politician,  they  will  make  strenuous 
efl'orts  to  get  into  the  Speaker's  Gallery.  On  such  an 
occasion,  many  of  the  youngest  and  prettiest  women  in 
London  can  be  found  there.  Hidden  in  Eastern  fashion 
from  masculine  sight,  fifty  or  more  will  sometimes  crowd 
into  the  small,  dark  cage  to  which  the  ungallant  British 
legislators  have  relegated  them.  The  ladies  in  the  first 
row,  in  a  cramped  attitude,  with  their  knees  against  the 
grille,  their  necks  craned  forward,  and  their  ears  pain- 
fully on  the  alert  if  they  wish  to  hear  anything,  are  sup- 
posed to  enjoy  a  great  privilege.     Those  in  the  second 

120 


r 
> 

a 

5 

0) 

O 
> 


H 

X 
H 

X 
O 

a 

en 

W 

o 

n 
o 
S 
S 
o 
z 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

row,  by  the  courtesy  of  the  first,  may  get  a  peep  of  the 
gods  below.  The  rest  have  to  fall  back  on  their  imagi- 
nation or  retire  to  a  small  room  in  the  rear,  where  they 
can  whisper  and  have  tea.  Some  take  the  opportunity 
to  polish  off  their  correspondence,  hoping,  perhaps,  that 
these  letters,  written  on  House  of  Commons  paper,  may 
convey  a  political  flavor  to  the  unpolitical  recipients. 
Silence  is  supposed  to  be  de  rigueur,  but  the  thread  of 
many  an  interesting  speech  has  been  lost  in  the  buzz  of 
stage  whispers  and  the  coming  and  going  of  restless 

ones.    "Is  that  Mr. ?"  exclaims  a  pretty  blonde  to 

her  neighbor.  "Do  lend  me  your  glasses.  Yes,  it  is  he. 
I  wonder  if  he  would  dine  with  me  to-night."  ("  'Sh!" 
comes  from  a  relative  of  the  man  who  is  speaking.) 
"We  are  thirteen— so  tiresome.  I  think  I  must  send 
him  a  note  by  the  usher."  ("  'Sh!")  "I  can  get  the 
answer  at  once— so  convenient."  (" 'Sh!"  "'Sh!") 
"Who  is  that  odious  woman  hushing  me?  Darling, 
keep  my  chair;  I  will  return  in  a  moment,"  and  amid  a 
jingling  of  beads  and  chains  and  a  frou-frou  of  silk 
petticoats,  the  fair  one  flies  to  scribble  her  note.  Mean- 
while the  front  row  settles  down  once  more  to  the  speech 
to  which  they  are  listening.  "What  an  immoral  argu- 
ment! Just  like  a  Radical's  impudence  to  say  such 
things!"  exclaims  in  no  dulcet  tones  a  Conservative 
peeress,  who  would  be  better  occupied  waking  up  her 
lord  in  the  Upper  House,  than  crowding  out  the  wife  of 
some  Member  of  Parliament  in  the  Lower. 

"Be  careful!"  says  her  neighbor;  "his  wife  is  next  to 
you." 

These  are  specimens  of  the  remarks  one  sometimes 
hears.    I  remember  an  enthusiastic  wife  whose  husband 

123 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

M^as  making  an  important  speech,  betraying  her  too  in- 
timate knowledge  of  it  by  giving  her  unwilling  listener 
the  best  points  beforehand.  Next  to  speaking  in  public 
oneself,  there  is  nothing  which  produces  such  feelings  of 
nervousness  and  apprehension  as  to  hear  one's  husband 
or  son  make  a  speech.  There  is  no  doubt,  however,  that 
the  frequent  recurrence  of  it  minimizes  the  ordeal,  par- 
ticularly if  the  speakers  are  sure  of  themselves.  In  this 
respect  I  can  claim  to  being  specially  favored,  though 
Randolph,  even  after  years  of  practice  and  experience, 
was  always  nervous  before  a  speech  until  he  actually 
stood  up.  This  subject  reminds  me  of  a  painful  sight  I 
once  saw  at  a  big  political  meeting.  A  young  member 
of  Parliament  with  more  acres  than  brains,  who  sat  for 
a  family  pocket  borough,  was  making  his  yearly  address 
to  his  constituents.  Shutting  his  eyes  tight  and  clench- 
ing his  hands,  he  began  in  a  high  falsetto  voice:  "Bro- 
thers and  sisters,  Conservatives!"  and  for  thirty  minutes 
he  recited,  or  rather  gabbled,  the  speech  he  had  learned 
by  heart,  while  his  Mdfe,  with  her  eyes  riveted  on  him, 
and  with  tears  pouring  down  her  cheeks  from  nervous- 
ness, unconsciously,  with  trembling  lips,  repeated  the 
words  he  was  uttering. 

Those  years  (1880-84)  of  political  activity  when  the 
Fourth  Party  was  at  its  zenith,  were  full  of  excitement 
and  interest  for  me.  Our  house  became  the  rendezvous 
of  all  shades  of  politicians.  Many  were  the  plots  and 
plans  which  were  hatched  in  my  presence  by  the  Fourth 
Party,  who,  notwithstanding  the  seriousness  of  their  en- 
deavors, found  time  to  laugh  heartily  and  often  at  their 
own  frustrated  machinations.  How  we  used  to  chaff 
about  the  "goats,"  as  we  called  the  ultra-Tories  and 

124 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

followers  of  Sir  Stafford  Northcote!  Great  was  to  be 
their  fall  and  destruction. 

Sir  Henry  Drummond  Wolff,  whom  I  had  met  at 
Cowes  before  my  marriage,  was  a  godsend  if  anything 
went  wrong,  and  a  joke  from  him  saved  many  a  situa- 
tion. With  a  pink-and-white  complexion  that  a  girl 
might  have  envied,  and  a  merry  twinkle  in  the  eyes 
which  hid  behind  a  pair  of  spectacles,  he  was  the  best  of 
company.  But  I  confess  I  thought  rather  dangerous  his 
habit  of  treating  the  most  serious  questions  in  a  flippant 
manner,  and  of  turning  everything  into  ridicule.  Some- 
times, to  hear  him  and  Randolph  discussing  the  situa- 
tion, the  uninitiated  might  have  thought  the  subject  was 
a  game  of  chess.  It  is  sad  to  think  that  Fortune  has 
been  so  little  kind  to  Sir  Henry,  for,  notwithstanding 
his  many  services  to  the  State  and  his  private  life  of 
unselfishness  and  abnegation,  cares  and  misfortunes 
have  come  heavily  upon  him  in  his  old  age. 

Sir  John  Gorst— then  Mr.  Gorst— was  a  very  differ- 
ent type  of  man  from  Sir  Henry  Wolff.  His  stern 
countenance  belied  him,  and  he  could  make  himself  very 
pleasant.  I  remember  his  defending  me  in  some  trivial 
case  in  the* County  Court,  and  winning  it;  the  appear- 
ance of  a  Queen's  Counsel  in  silk  gown  and  wig  creating 
a  sensation.  Randolph  accompanied  us,  and  we  drove 
away  in  a  four-wheeler,  feeling  very  triumphant  until 
the  wheel  came  off,  and  we  were  ignominiously  pre- 
cipitated into  the  street. 

Sir  John  had  a  music-loving  soul,  and  many  were  the 
occasions  when  he  and  I  and  Arthur  Balfour  went  off  to 
the  "Monday  Pops,"  to  listen  to  the  sweet  strains  of 
Joachim  and  Norman  Neruda.     My  fashionable  and 

125 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

frivolous  friends,  spying  the  three  of  us  walking  to- 
gether, often  teased  me  about  my  "weird"  companions, 
one  solemn  with  beard  and  eye-glass,  the  other  esthetic 
with  long  hair  and  huge  spats.  Mr.  Balfour's  know- 
ledge of  music  was  remarkable,  considering  the  little 
time  he  was  able  to  devote  to  it,  and  he  was  no  mean 
performer  at  the  piano,  reading  and  playing  classical 
music.  We  often  played  Beethoven  or  Schumann  to- 
gether. But  it  was  not  without  difficulty  that  he  could 
get  away  from  his  parliamentary  duties,  which  increased 
yearly,  and  often  I  was  disappointed  of  his  company,  as 
shown  by  the  following  letter : 

1883  House  of  Commons. 

My  dear  Lady  Randolph  : 

I  am  groaning  and  swearing  on  this  beastly  bench :  while  you 
are  listening  to  Wagnerian  discords,  I  am  listening  to  Irish 
grumblings — there  is  a  great  deal  of  brass  in  both  of  them; 
otherwise  there  is  not  much  resemblance!     I  am  sitting  next 

,  I  might  be  sitting  next  you!     I  am  an  unhappy  victim. 

However,  there  is  no  choice.  Monday  night  is  a  most  unlucky 
one  for  Richter :  the  Irish  have  a  talent  for  turning  everything 
into  an  Irish  debate ;  and  when  the  Irish  speak  I  must  answer,  as 
I  have  just  been  endeavoring  to  do ! 

Your  miserable  servant, 

Aethue  James  Balfoue. 

As  regards  the  Fourth  Party,  I  was  full  of  grievances 
against  Mr.  Balfour.  He  never  seemed  quite  certain 
whether  he  belonged  to  it  or  not ;  it  depended  how  Ran- 
dolph, Wolff,  and  Gorst  were  behaving,  how  much  his 
uncle.  Lord  Salisbury,  remonstrated,  or  how  political 
events  were  shaping  themselves  for  the  party.    If  badly, 

126 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Mr.  Balfour  would,  as  I  often  had  reason  to  tell  him, 
"retirer  son  epingle  du  jeu,"  and  repudiate  with  indigna- 
tion the  idea  that  he  was  a  member  of  it.  This  did  not 
prevent  him,  however,  from  secretly  hankering  after 
the  "wicked"  three,  whose  company  had  for  him  all  the 
fascination  of  forbidden  fruit.  Be  it  as  it  may.  History, 
that  often  untruthful  jade,  will  probably  write  him 
down  as  the  fourth  member  of  the  party,  although  he 
may  have  only  coquetted  with  it.  A  contemporary 
says  of  him,  "An  apostle  of  modern  intelligence,  a  de- 
positary of  universal  knowledge,  a  standard  of  mental 
infallibility,  Mr.  Balfour  would  have  constituted  an 
important  Party  in  himself  if  he  had  not  been  a  chosen 
vessel  designed  by  nature,  by  culture,  and  by  the  eternal 
fitness  of  things  to  be  the  Fourth  Party's  fourth  man." 
During  the  time  that  Randolph  and  his  friends  were 
strugghng  in  Opposition,  Sir  William  Harcourt,  Sir 
Charles  Dilke,  and  Mr.  Joseph  Chamberlain  came  fre- 
quently to  our  house.  This  was  looked  upon  with  much 
disapproval  by  the  "goats,"  who  regarded  these  poli- 
ticians as  very  dangerous  company  for  young  people 
properly  imbued  with  true  Conservative  principles.  The 
Duke  of  Marlborough,  my  father-in-law,  was  particu- 
larly incensed,  and  took  Randolph  seriously  to  task  for 
having  had  Mr.  Chamberlain  to  dinner— "a  man  who 
was  a  Socialist,  or  not  far  from  one ;  who  was  reputed  to 
have  refused  to  drink  the  Queen's  health  when  Mayor  of 
Birmingham,"  etc.  "How  could  the  influence  of  such  a 
man  be  anything  but  pernicious?"  Indeed,  London  so- 
ciety thought  as  much,  and  since  we  were  not  in  favor 
at  Court  at  that  time,  this  association  with  advanced 
Radicals  was  made  another  subject  of  grievance  against 

127 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

us.  Randolph,  however,  pursued  the  even  tenor  of  his 
way,  and  I  am  glad  to  think  that,  notwithstanding  their 
sometimes  very  acute  political  differences,  he  remained 
to  the  end  of  his  life  an  ardent  admirer  and  friend  of 
Mr.  Chamberlain. 

Sir  William  and  Lady  Harcourt  used  to  give  the 
most  delightful  dinners  and  parties  at  their  house  in 
Grafton  Street,  restricted  enough  in  numbers  to  make 
conversation  possible.  Unlike  the  present  day,  people 
were  content  to  remain  where  they  were  being  enter- 
tained, and  were  not  troubled  with  anxiety  to  be  seen  at 
half  a  dozen  places  in  the  course  of  one  evening.  The 
pleasantest  people  in  London  were  to  be  met  there,  at- 
tracted not  only  by  Sir  William's  wit  and  conversation, 
but  also  by  Lady  Harcourt's  geniality  and  her  art  of 
making  every  one  feel  at  home.  I  was  always  proud  to 
think  that  the  daughter  of  that  most  illustrious  historian. 
Motley,  was  a  compatriot.  I  remember  at  one  of  these 
dinners  having  an  amusing  passage-at-arms  with  my 
host.  Sir  Charles  Dilke,  and  Mr.  Chamberlain.  At  that 
period  I  had  taken  up  painting  very  violently,  martyr- 
izing many  models,  paid  and  unpaid,  covering  miles  of 
canvas  with  impossible  daubs,  and  spending  a  small  for- 
tune in  paints  and  pigments.  My  first  picture,  a  life- 
size  copy  in  oils  of  Sant's  "Inexorable"  was  to  my  dis- 
comfiture mistaken  by  an  admiring  friend  for  a  brilliant 
piece  of  wool-work!  My  three  Radical  friends  having 
been  told  of  my  artistic  efforts,  chaffingly  implored  me 
to  hand  them  down  to  posterity  by  painting  their  por: 
traits.  "Why  refuse  to  paint  us?"  "Where  can  you 
find  more  attractive  or  noble  models!"  "Come,  here  is  a 
chance  to  immortalize  yourself  and  us." 

128 


o 
> 

JO 

r 
m 


r 


r 
r 

> 

X 

> 

n 
O 
r: 

H 


O 
W 

X 
n 

> 

w 
m 
?o 
r 
> 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

"Impossible,"  I  cried.  "I  should  fail;  I  could  never 
paint  you  black  enough." 

I  used  to  accompany  Randolph  to  most  of  his  political 
gatherings  in  the  country.  We  would  stay  with  some 
local  magnate,  who  probably  would  be  taking  the  chair 
at  the  meeting.  Men  on  those  occasions  fare  better  than 
their  women  folk,  for,  on  the  plea  of  having  to  prepare 
speeches,  they  can  seek  the  solitude  of  their  rooms.  Not 
so  the  wife,  who  has  to  sit,  perhaps  for  hours,  talking 
platitudes  to  the  wives  and  daughters  of  the  political 
supporters  who  have  been  invited  to  meet  her.  But  their 
desire  to  please,  and  the  hospitality  they  so  cordially  ex- 
tend to  one,  make  up  for  it.  On  these  social-political 
experiences,  the  late  Lord  Goschen,  a  personal  friend, 
often  comj)ared  notes  with  me.  , 

House  of  Commons,  S.  W. 

17th  August. 
Dear  Lady  Randolph  : 

I  telegraphed  to  you  yesterday  to  Penn,  that  I  am  extremely 
sorry  that  I  could  not  accept  your  fascinating  invitation.  That 
is  to  say,  this  was  the  substance  of  the  telegram :  I  did  not  put  it 
so  warmly  to  the  telegraph  clerk.  We  have  a  party  of  friends 
coming  to  us  in  the  country  to-day,  so  that  I  am  due  at  home  to 
entertain  them — we  are  further  from  London  than  you,  but  not 
too  far  to  get  friends  for  the  Sunday.  I  indeed  want  fresh  air 
and  a  "rest  from  the  House  and  all  its  inmates." 

We  hang  on  here  in  a  deplorable  condition,  without  amuse- 
ments, and  without  ladies,  without  any  interests  except  the  dy- 
ing interests  of  a  dull  Session.  Sometimes  a  stray  woman  ap- 
pears on  the  terrace,  but  what  is  that  among  so  many.^*  "Souls" 
and  bodies  have  equally  vanished.  I  wonder  which  Mr.  Russell 
has  said  or  written  what  about  me,  where  .'^    Anyhow,  I  do  not 

131 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

know  that  I  possess  the  particular  characteristics  you  mention. 
But  if  I  did,  I  should  certainly  not  think  you  "one  of  my  fail- 
ures" .  .  .  for  your  extracted  talk  has  always  interested  me 
extremely,  so  much  so  that  there  is  not  a  woman  in  London  I 
like  more  to  take  into  dinner  if  I  get  the  chance.  As  I  know 
that  you  and  all  Americans  hate  compliments  I  must  apologize 
for  the  last  sentence. 

The  division  bell  is  ringing  and  disturbs  my  memories. 
Please  remember  that  my  pen  is  only  dipped  in  a  House  of  Com- 
mons inkstand,  and  not  in  such  a  romantic  inkstand  as  that 
which  emanated  from  your  first  literary  earnings.^  So  you 
must  forgive  me  if  I  have  written  a  mere  Philistine  letter. 

Yours  very  sincerely, 

George  G.  Goschen. 

Of  all  the  statesmen  I  have  met,  I  think  the  late  Lord 
Salisbury  and  Mr.  Gladstone  were  the  pleasantest  com- 
panions at  dinner.  Both  had  the  happy  knack  of  seem- 
ing vastly  interested  in  one's  conversation,  whatever  the 
subject,  or  however  frivolous.  There  was  no  condescen- 
sion or  "tempering  of  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb"  about 
it.  At  the  same  time,  I  must  own  that  any  feeling  of  ela- 
tion for  having  had,  as  one  considered,  a  success  was 
speedily  destroyed;  for  the  next  woman,  whoever  she 
might  be,  who  had  the  privilege  of  sitting  beside  either 
of  these  great  men,  would  receive  exactly  the  same  cour- 
teous attention.  As  for  Mr.  Gladstone,  having  once 
started  him  on  his  subject,  an  ijitelligent  "Yes"  or  "No" 
was  all  that  was  required.  But  if  you  ventured  a  remark 
(to  which  he  listened  in  grave  sileJice),  he  had  a  discon- 

^  Speaking  once  of  a  common  friend  who  was  fajiious  for  his  epistolary  style, 
I  had  related  to  Lord  Goschen  how  I  had  sent  thiis  friend  a  present  of  an  ink- 
stand (  paid  for  out  of  my  first  literary  earnings  )  a»s  a  gentle  hint  that  I  wished 
for  a  letter  from  him. 

.     132J 


o 

o 

>t 

1^ 

*= 

c 

s 

flj 

o 

X 

u 

Im 

u. 

Cfi 

o 

Vh 

3 

w 

O 

tn 

O 

j= 

W 

t; 

< 

P 

1^ 

z 

s 

J= 

(J 

^ 

u 

H 

3 

C4 

U 

t^ 

"o. 

"o 

D 

oi 

O 

■c 

H. 

o 

w 

J 

2i 

rt 

LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

certing  way  of  turning  sharply  round,  his  piercing  eye 
fixed  inquiringly  upon  you,  and  his  hand  to  his  ear,  with 
the  gesture  so  well  known  to  the  House  of  Commons. 
His  old-world  manner  was  very  attractive,  and  his  ur- 
banity outside  the  House  remarkable.  On  one  occasion 
I  had  been  at  the  House  hearing  Randolph  make  a  fiery 
attack  on  him,  which  he  answered  with  equal  heat  and 
indignation.  The  hour  was  late,  and  Randolph  and  I 
had  just  time  to  rush  home  and  dress  to  dine  at  Spencer 
House  with  Lord  and  Lady  Spencer.  The  first  person 
I  met  as  I  went  in  was  Mr.  Gladstone,  who  at  once  came 
up  and  said:  "I  hope  Lord  Randolph  is  not  too  tired 
after  his  magnificent  efi'ort."  What  an  object  lesson  to 
those  foreign  politicians  who  would  look  upon  it  as  an 
insult  to  be  asked  to  meet  in  the  same  house ! 

The  autumn  of  1883  was  marked  by  the  formation  of 
the  Primrose  League,  which  subsequently  proved  to  be 
an  event  of  great  political  importance,  and  a  tower  of 
strength  to  the  Conservative  Party. 

The  Fourth  Party,  with  the  exception  of  Mr.  Bal- 
four, and  the  addition  of  Sir  Alfred  Slade,  had  drawn 
up  the  statutes  and  ordinances  of  this  new  political  so- 
ciety, which  was  to  "embrace  all  classes  and  all  creeds 
except  atheists  and  enemies  of  the  British  Empire."  Sir 
Henry  Wolfi*,  who  had  originated  the  idea  from  seeing 
Conservatives  wearing  primroses  on  the  anniversary  of 
Lord  Beaconsfield's  death,  came  to  Blenheim,  where  I 
was  staying  at  the  time,  to  initiate  us. 

All  the  female  members  of  the  family  who  happened 
to  be  there  were  enrolled  as  dames,  and  were  given  a 
badge  and  a  numbered  diploma.  Mine  was  No.  11.  The 
Duchess  of  Marlborough  was  made  President  of  the 

135 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

Ladies'  Grand  Council,  which  was  being  formed.  I 
must  say  we  laughed  immoderately  over  the  grandil- 
oquent names — the  "Knights  Harbingers"  (or  "Night 
refugees,"  as  we  dubbed  them),  the  "Ruling  Council- 
lors," the  "Chancellor  of  the  League,"  "Dames,"  "Dame 
President,"  "Habitations,"  and  what  not.  We  criticized 
freely  the  Brummagem  gaudy  badges  and  "ye  ancient" 
diplomas  printed  on  vellum.  Little  did  we  know  the 
power  the  League  was  to  become.  As  a  "dame,"  I  was 
determined  to  do  all  I  could  to  further  its  aims.  The 
first  years  of  its  existence  were  a  struggle.  The  wearing 
of  the  badge  exposed  one  to  much  chaff,  not  to  say  ridi- 
cule; but  we  persisted.  Recruits  joined  "surely,  if 
slowly,"  and  to-day,  after  twenty-one  years  of  existence, 
the  League  can  boast  of  having  1,703,708  knights, 
dames,  and  associates  upon  its  rolls,  and  of  having  ma- 
terially helped  to  keep  the  Conservative  Party  in  power 
twenty  years. 

For  many  years  I  worked  strenuously  on  behalf  of 
the  League.  I  became  the  "Dame  President"  of  many 
Habitations,  and  used  to  go  all  over  the  country  in- 
augurating them.  The  opening  ceremonies  were  often 
quaint  in  their  conceptions,  a  mixture  of  grave  and  gay, 
serious  and  frivolous — speeches  from  members  of  Par- 
liament, interspersed  with  songs  and  even  recitations, 
sometimes  of  a  comical  nature.  The  meeting  would  end 
with  the  enrolment  of  converts. 

A  strange  medley,  the  laborer  and  the  local  magnate, 
the  county  lady  and  the  grocer's  wife,  would  troop  up 
and  sign  the  roll.  Politics,  like  charity,  are  a  great 
leveler.  The  late  Lady  Salisbury,  when  President  of 
the  Ladies  Executive  Council  of  the  Primrose  League, 

136 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

once  at  a  committee  meeting  rebuked  a  member  who 
thought  that  a  certain  form  of  entertainment  to  be  held 
at  one  of  the  Primrose  League  Habitations,  though 
attractive  to  the  masses,  might  be  thought  shghtly  vul- 
gar. "Vulgar?  Of  course  it  is  vulgar,"  exclaimed  the 
President;  "but  that  is  why  we  have  got  on  so  well." 

Among  the  many  entertainments  of  this  kind,  I  par- 
ticularly remember  going  with  ]VIr.  Balfour  to  Man- 
chester just  before  the  general  elections  of  1886  to  open 
a  large  Habitation.  A  few  days  later,  on  the  seventh 
of  June,  JNIr.  Gladstone  was  defeated  on  his  Home 
Rule  Bill.  In  view  of  this,  I  permit  myself  to  give  my 
remarks  on  the  occasion,  as  they  proved  prophetic. 

Trembling  with  excitement,  my  notes  hidden  in  my 
fan,  I  said : 

"I  am  proud  to  have  the  privilege  of  inaugurating  this 
most  important  Habitation.  It  is  not  necessary  for  me 
to  dilate  on  the  usefulness  of  the  Primrose  League,  We 
have  had  ample  proof  of  the  great  work  it  did  at  the 
recent  General  Election  (1885),  and  we  shall  soon  have 
an  opportunity  of  showing  to  our  opponents  that  not 
only  is  its  power  undiminished,  but  that  it  is  increased 
tenfold.  But  to  make  this  a  certainty,  I  think  that  every 
member  of  the  Primrose  League  must  put  his  or  her 
shoulder  to  the  wheel.  When  Mr.  Gladstone  appears  in 
his  new  role  of  undertaker,  let  us  hope  that,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  a  few  hypocritical  mourners,  he  may  be  left 
to  bury  his  doomed  Bill  alone.  When  that  melancholy 
rite  is  accomplished,  and  he  appeals  to  the  country,  I 
trust  with  all  my  heart  that  it  will  answer  with  one  voice 
in  favor  of  that  Party  which  is  pledged  to  support  all 
that  is  dear  to  England— religion,  law,  order,  and  the 

137 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

unity  of  the  Empire."  The  local  press  were  good 
enough  to  add  that  "Lady  Randolph  was  ably  supported 
by  Lord  Salisbury's  nephew,  Mr.  Balfour,  M.P.  I" 

The  year  1883  saw  us  in  a  new  house  in  Connaught 
Place.  "Tyburnia,"  our  friends  called  it,  as  on  the  rail- 
ings opposite  our  windows,  which  faced  Hyde  Park, 
there  was  a  small  tablet  to  mark  the  site  of  Tyburn  Gate. 
Often  I  thought  of  the  thousands  of  poor  wretches  who 
had  been  hanged  there,  and  sometimes  wondered  if  the 
house  would  be  full  of  wailing  ghosts:  but  frankly  I 
never  saw  or  heard  one. 

I  was  very  much  occupied  that  winter  furnishing,  and 
disposing  in  the  new  house  what  my  brother-in-law 
Blandford  used  to  call  my  "stage  properties."  In  a 
former  house  which  we  had  bought  shortly  after  our 
marriage,  I  had,  in  my  ignorance  of  the  climate,  covered 
the  walls  with  silks  and  stuffs,  and  nearly  cried  with 
dismay  when  I  saw  the  havoc  wrought  upon  them  by  the 
fogs  and  smuts  of  the  dirtiest  of  towns.  My  dearly 
bought  experience  stood  me  in  good  stead  when  furnish- 
ing again.  The  paneling  and  clean  white  paint,  which  is 
so  popular  to-day,  formed  the  principal  decoration  of 
our  next  dwelling,  which,  by  the  way,  was  the  first  pri- 
vate house  in  London  to  have  electric  lights.  We  had  a 
small  dynamo  placed  in  a  cellar  underneath  the  street, 
and  the  noise  of  it  greatly  excited  all  the  horses  as  they 
approached  our  door.  The  light  was  such  an  innovation 
that  much  curiosity  and  interest  were  evinced  to  see  it, 
and  people  used  to  ask  for  permission  to  come  to  the 
house.  I  remember  the  fiasco  of  a  dinner  party  we  gave 
to  show  it  off,  when  the  light  went  out  in  the  middle  of 
the  feast,  just  as  we  were  expatiating  on  its  beauties,  our 

138 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

guests  having  to  remain  in  utter  darkness  until  the 
lamps  and  candles,  which  had  been  relegated  to  the  lower 
regions,  were  unearthed.  The  electric  light  did  not 
prove  to  us  an  unmitigated  blessing,  inasmuch  as  Ran- 
dolph, having  spoken  enthusiastically  in  the  House  of 
Commons  in  favor  of  an  Electric  Lighting  Bill,  felt  he 
could  no  longer  accept  the  gift  of  the  installation  which 
by  way  of  an  advertisement  a  company  had  oif  ered  to 
put  into  our  house,  free  of  cost.  Unfortunately,  there 
being  no  contract,  we  were  charged  double  or  treble  the 
real  price.  It  is  curious  how  fond  one  can  become  of  in- 
animate objects  apart  from  their  intrinsic  value.  We 
had  many  nice  bits  of  old  furniture  which  we  had  picked 
up  in  Dublin,  where  they  had  found  their  way  from  the 
dismantled  houses  of  impecunious  Irish  landlords. 
Things  could  be  bought  cheaply  in  those  days,  the  artis- 
tic craze  being  confined  to  the  eclectic  few.  Now  col- 
lecting millionaires  have  bought  up  nearly  everything, 
and  what  is  left  is  held  at  fabulous  prices.  On  the  other 
hand,  owing  to  the  taste  of  the  present  day,  the  "House 
Beautiful"  is  now  within  the  reach  of  all.  We  are  far 
from  the  heavy  and  uncomfortable  monstrosities  of  the 
Early  Victorian  epoch.  Taste  and  common-sense,  with 
a  desire  for  knowledge,  even  if  allied  to  a  limited  purse, 
will  go  farther  nowadays  to  please  the  eye  of  the  senses 
than  the  riches  of  a  Croesus  spent  for  him  by  upholster- 
ers. Once  the  eye  is  accustomed  to  the  purest  styles  and 
perfect  models,  it  unconsciously  rejects  base  imitations 
and  inharmonious  lines;  just  as  the  man  who  lives  sur- 
rounded by  fine  pictures  even  if  he  be  not  an  artist,  re- 
tains an  impression  of  the  warmth  and  beautiful  coloring 
of  the  masterpieces. 
'  139 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

I  remember  coming  across  some  large  painted  panels 
which  I  found  in  an  old  shop  in  the  City.  Al- 
though grimy  and  in  a  deplorable  condition,  I  thought 
I  detected  in  them  real  merit.  My  sojourn  at  Blen- 
heim among  those  glorious  pictures,  I  suppose,  had 
educated  my  eye.  The  owner  wanted  some  <£300 
for  them,  for  which  they  were  to  be  restored  and 
put  into  good  order.  Full  of  my  trouvaille^  I  rushed 
home  with  a  glowing  tale,  in  the  hopes  of  persuading 
Randolph  to  buy  them.  I  found  him  with  iSlr.  Balfour 
and  Sir  Henry  WoliF,  discussing  the  merits  of  "Elijah's 
Mantle,"  which  he  had  just  written  for  the  "Fort- 
nightly." The  laughter  it  provoked  reached  my  ears  as 
I  subsequently  sat  in  my  drawing-room  looking  at  its 
bare  walls,  which,  alas!  had  to  remain  so.  "Three  hun- 
dred pounds — preposterous!  Besides,  we  cannot  afford 
it" — so  Randolph  settled  the  question.  I  reluctantly 
gave  up  the  panels,  which  were  sold  shortly  afterward, 
and  turned  out  to  be  Morland's,  worth  to-day  perhaps 
£7000  or  £8000! 

London  was  very  animated  that  season.  Randolph's 
growing  prominence  in  the  political  world  was  attract- 
ing considerable  attention  in  the  social,  and  we  were 
bombarded  with  invitations  of  every  kind.  The  fashion- 
able world,  which  had  held  aloof,  now  began  to  smile 
upon  us  once  more.  Most  people  in  the  course  of  a  life- 
time get  to  know  the  real  value  of  "the  Mammon  of  Un- 
righteousness," but  few  learn  their  lesson  so  early.  We 
both  profited  by  it.  Personally  I  would  never  give  up 
anything  by  which  I  really  set  store  for  the  sake  of  its 
unsatisfactory  approbation. 

A  curious  phase  had  come  over  society.    Publicity  be- 

140 


ARTHUR  JAMHS  UALFOUK 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

came  the  fashion,  although  it  was  mild  in  comparison 
with  that  which  exists  to-day.  People  live  much  more 
before  the  public  than  they  did.  Privacy  seems  a  lux- 
ury no  one  is  allowed  to  indulge  in — even  the  most  unin- 
teresting must  be  interviewed ;  their  houses,  their  tastes, 
their  habits,  photographs  of  themselves  in  their  sanctum, 
all  are  given  to  the  "man  in  the  street."  The  craze  for 
exhibiting  the  photographs  of  "Ladies  of  Quality,"  as 
they  would  have  been  called  in  the  eighteenth  century, 
was  a  novelty  which  brought  forth  much  comment.  The 
first  time  mine  found  its  way  into  a  shop,  I  was  severely 
censured  by  my  friends,  and  told  I  ought  to  prosecute 
the  photographer. 

So  great  was  the  license  allowed  to  the  public  that 
some  ladies  who  had  taken  London  by  storm  were  pub- 
licly mentioned  as  "Professional  Beauties."  Conspicu- 
ous among  them  were  Mrs.  Langtry  and  Mrs.  Wheeler. 
A  fierce  war  of  opinion  as  to  their  rival  merits  raged 
about  them. 

Artists  extolled  Mrs.  Langtry's  classical  Greek  pro- 
file, golden  hair,  and  wonderful  columnlike  throat,  graced 
with  the  three  ''plis  de  Venus/'  which  made  her  an  ideal 
subject  for  their  brushes  and  chisels.  So  great  was  the 
enthusiasm  created  by  the  beauty  of  the  "Jersey  Lily," 
as  she  was  called,  that  in  the  height  of  the  season  I  have 
seen  people  standing  on  chairs  in  the  Row  to  get  a  peep 
at  her.  Professor  Newton  on  one  occasion  lectured  at 
King's  College  on  Greek  art.  JNIrs.  Langtry,  as  a  living 
exponent  of  the  classical  type  which  the  professor  was 
describing,  sat  in  a  prominent  place  facing  the  audience. 
In  one  of  his  letters  to  me  while  I  was  in  Ireland,  Ran- 
dolph writes:    "I   dined   with   Lord   Wharncliffe   last 

143 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

night,  and  took  in  to  dinner  a  Mrs.  Langtry,  a  most 
beautiful  creature,— quite  unknown,  very  poor,  and  they 
say  has  but  one  black  dress." 

Mrs.  Wheeler  was  quite  different  with  dark  hair  and 
deep  gray-blue  eyes,  which  held  you  by  their  gentle,  ap- 
pealing expression.    She  was  very  fascinating. 

For  a  time  no  party  was  considered  complete  or  suc- 
cessful without  these  ladies.  People  would  receive  invi- 
tations with  "Do  come;  the  P.  Bs.  will  be  there."  This 
meant  the  certain  attendance  of  society.  On  which  a  poet 
( saving  the  mark ! )  of  the  day  wrote  the  following  verses : 

First  Lady  Dudley  did  my  sense  enthral, 

Whiter  than  chisel'd  marble  standing  there, 

The  Juno  of  our  earth,  "divinely  tall, 
!And  most  divinely  fair." 

And  next  with  all  her  wealth  of  hair  unroll'd. 
Was  Lady  Mandeville,  bright  eyed  and  witty ; 

And  Miss  Yznaga  whose  dark  cheek  recall'd 
Lord  Byron's  Spanish  ditty. 

The  Lady  Castlereagh  held  court  near  by, 

A  very  Venus,  goddess  fair  of  love, 
And  Lady  Florence  Chaplin  nestled  nigh, 

Gentle  as  Venus'  dove. 

As  gipsy  dark,  with  black  eyes  like  sloes, 

A  foil  for  Violet  Lindsay,  sweetly  fair, 
Stood  Mrs.  Murietta,  a  red  rose 

Was  blushing  In  her  hair. 

And  warmly  beautiful,  like  sun  at  noon. 

Glowed  with  love's  flames  our  dear  Princess  Louise, 

Attended  by  the  beautiful  Sassoon, 
The  charming  Viennesse ! 

144 


GEOKGIANA,  COUNTESS  OF  DUDLEY 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Then  Lady  Randolph  Churchill,  whose  sweet  tones 

Make  her  the  Saint  Cecilia  of  the  day ; 
[And  next  those  fay-like  girls,  the  Livingstones, 

Girofla-Girofle ! 

And  then  my  eyes  were  moved  to  gaze  upon 
The  phantom-like,  celestial  form  and  face 

Of  the  ethereal  Lady  Clarendon, 
The  loveliest  of  her  race. 

The  beauteous  sister  of  a  Countess  fair, 

Is  she,  the  next  that  my  whole  soul  absorbs, 

A  model  she  for  Phidias,  I  declare, 
The  classic  Lady  Forbes. 

Although  London  has  always  been  famous  for  the 
beautiful  women  of  all  nationalities  that  one  can  see 
there,  I  doubt  their  having  been  surpassed  since  the 
eighties.  To  pick  and  choose  among  such  a  bevy  is  some- 
what of  an  invidious  task.  I  can  think  of  few  nowadays 
who  could  really  compare  with  the  Duchess  of  Leinster 
and  her  sister  Lady  Helen  Vincent,  Lady  London- 
derry, Lady  Dalhousie,  Lady  Lonsdale  (better  known 
as  Lady  de  Grey),  Lady  Ormonde  who  has  the  cameo- 
like features  of  her  mother,  the  beautiful  Duchess  of 
Westminster,  Lady  Mary  INIills,  and  Lady  Gerard. 
Mrs.  Cornwallis-West,  whose  daughters  have  inherited 
her  beauty,  held  her  own  with  the  best  of  them.  It  was 
difficult  to  find  a  fault  in  her  bright,  sparkling  face,  as 
full  of  animation  as  her  brown  eyes  were  of  Irish  wit  and 
fun.  She  had  a  lovely  complexion,  curly  brown  hair, 
and  a  perfect  figure.  Undoubtedly,  however,  the  one 
who  will  be  handed  down  to  posterity  as  the  most  beau- 

147 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

tiful  woman  of  her  generation  is  Georgiana  Lady  Dud- 
ley, whose  imposing  presence  and  small  aristocratic 
head  still  command  admiration. 

Among  royal  ladies  no  one  can  dispute  the  palm  be- 
ing given  to  her  Majesty  Queen  Alexandra. 


148 


CHAPTER  VII 


GASTEIN  — LORD  RANDOLPH'S  LETTERS  FROM  INDIA 


IN  July,  1883,  an  otherwise  pleasant  season  was  sud- 
denly turned  into  grief  and  mourning  for  us  by  the 
death  of  my  father-in-law.  Randolph  had  dined 
with  him  the  previous  night,  when  he  appeared  quite  in 
his  usual  health.  At  eight  o'clock  next  morning  we 
heard  a  knock  at  our  bedroom  door,  and  a  footman  stam- 
mered out  "His  Grace  is  dead!" 

It  was  naturally  a  great  shock  to  Randolph,  who  was 
much  attached  to  his  father,  and  saw  him  constantly.  I 
regretted  the  Duke  very  much:  he  had  always  been  most 
kind  and  charming  to  me.  If  he  seemed  rather  cold 
and  reserved,  he  really  had  an  affectionate  nature.  Al- 
though his  children  were  somewhat  in  awe  of  him,  hav- 
ing been  brought  up  in  the  old-fashioned  way  which 
precludes  any  real  intimacy,  they  were  devoted  to  him. 
The  Duke  was  greatly  interested  in  politics,  and  was  a 
Tory  of  the  old  type,  holding  in  abhorrence  anything 
approaching  change.  He  was  one  of  the  strongest  op- 
ponents of  the  "Deceased  Wife's  Sister"  Bill,  and  only 
a  few  days  before  his  death,  owing  to  his  efforts,  the 
Third  Reading  of  the  Bill  had  been  defeated  by  a  nar- 
row majority. 

After  a  few  days  spent  at  Blenheim,  we  left  for  Gas- 
tein,  taking  our  boy  Winston  with  us.  There  we  led  the 
"simple  life"  with  a  vengeance,  but  after  the  rush  of 

149 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

London,  and  the  gloom  of  the  preceding  weeks,  the 
peace  and  quiet  were  not  unpleasant. 

In  our  walks  we  frequently  met  Bismarck  with  his 
big  boar-hound,  two  detectives  following  him  closely. 
One  day  as  he  was  walking  rather  slowly  we  tried  to  pass 
him,  whereupon,  much  to  my  annoyance,  the  detectives 
rushed  forward  in  a  most  threatening  manner.  I  had  no 
idea  we  looked  like  anarchists. 

Beyond  climbing  the  mountains  and  taking  the  baths, 
there  was  little  to  do.  We  made  the  acquaintance  of 
Count  Lehndorff ,  who  introduced  us  to  an  old  Grafin, 
who  lived  in  a  villa  called  "La  Solitude."  This  lady  was 
a  great  friend  of  the  Emperor  William  I,  and  invited  us 
one  day  to  tea  to  meet  him.  The  Emperor  was  a  fine- 
looking  man,  notwithstanding  his  age,  and  he  had  that 
old-world  manner  which  is  as  attractive  as  it  is  rare.  He 
was  full  of  gaiety,  and  chaif ed  some  of  the  young  peo- 
ple present.  It  was  a  mystery  to  me  how  he  survived 
what  he  ate  and  drank,  although  he  was  doing  a  cure. 
He  began  with  poached  eggs,  and  went  on  to  potted 
meats  and  various  strange  German  dishes,  added  many 
cups  of  strong  tea,  and  ended  with  strawberries,  ices, 
and  sweet,  tepid  champagne.  We  talked  banalites;  it 
was  not  very  exciting. 

We  spent  the  winter  following  the  Duke's  death  more 
or  less  at  Blenheim  under  the  new  regime.  My  brother- 
in-law,  who  had  now  succeeded  to  the  family  honors,  was 
most  kind  and  hospitable,  and  insisted  that  nothing 
should  be  altered  as  regarded  us.  He  even  persuaded 
Randolph  to  revive  his  harriers.  I  thoroughly  enjoyed 
the  hunting,  and  was  given  the  proud  post  of  whipper- 
in.    But  I  own  to  my  discomfiture  that  I  could  never  re- 

150 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

member  the  names  of  the  hounds ;  to  me  they  all  looked 
alike.  Randolph,  on  the  contrary,  knew  not  only  their 
names,  but  their  characteristics,  and  spent  many  hours 
at  the  kennels. 

In  November,  1884,  wanting  a  rest  from  the  arduous 
political  work  he  had  been  indulging  in,  Randolph  de- 
cided to  go  to  India  for  a  few  months.  He  had  been 
speaking  at  a  good  many  meetings  all  over  the  country, 
at  Edinburgh,  at  Blackpool,  to  his  own  constituents  at 
Woodstock,  and  finally  in  a  regular  campaign  in  Birm- 
ingham, where  on  one  occasion  occurred  the  celebrated 
Aston  Riots,  which  were  organized  by  Mr.  Chamber- 
lain's agent,  a  Mr.  Schnadhorst.  How  the  meeting  was 
broken  up,  the  speakers  (Sir  Stafford  Northcote,  Col- 
onel Burnaby,  Lord  Randolph,  and  others)  fleeing  for 
their  lives,  is  a  matter  of  history.  Notwithstanding  Ran- 
dolph's righteous  indignation  at  such  treatment,  partic- 
ularly from  a  friend,  even  though  a  political  opponent, 
he  made  it  up  with  Mr.  Chamberlain  before  leaving  for 
India.  Amiable  letters  passed  between  them,  and  they 
shook  hands.  While  Randolph  was  on  the  high  seas,  the 
Aston  Riots  question,  which  had  already  been  discussed 
at  length  in  the  House  of  Commons,  came  up  again.  In 
view  of  the  reconciliation  which  had  just  taken  place, 
I  was  rather  disappointed  to  hear  Mr.  Chamberlain 
warmly  backing  up  his  constituents.  It  may  have  been 
necessary  from  his  point  of  view,  but  I  agree  with  M.  de 
Camors — "La  'politique  desseche  le  coeur."  Sometimes, 
indeed,  I  think  politics  a  "sorry  game."  Too  often  its 
attributes  are  callousness  and  ingratitude,  tricks  and 
treachery.  In  any  other  "walk  of  life"  these  things 
would  not  be  tolerated  for  a  moment. 

151 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

The  press  in  those  days  attacked  Randolph  most  vi- 
ciously on  every  possible  opportunity.  Mr.  Buckle,  the 
editor  of  the  "Times,"  who  was  by  way  of  being  a  friend 
of  ours,  often,  if  not  invariably,  wrote  slating  articles  on 
him.  One  night  I  met  him  at  the  Speaker's  after  a  par- 
ticularly poisonous  leader  had  appeared  in  the  morning 
"Times."  Coming  up,  he  half-chaffingly  asked  me  if  I 
intended  to  speak  to  him,  or  if  I  was  too  angry.  "An- 
gry? Not  a  bit,"  I  replied.  "I  have  ten  volumes  of 
press-cuttings  about  Randolph,  all  abusive.  This  will 
only  be  added  to  them." 

I  sometimes  wonder  if  the  power  of  the  press  is  not 
greatly  exaggerated.  I  have  always  observed  that  it  has 
to  follow  a  popular  movement,  not  lead  it,  and  great 
abuse  of  a  public  man  only  seems  to  help  him  to  office. 
At  the  last  General  Election  (1906),  with  few  excep- 
tions the  whole  press  of  England  preached  protection, 
and  yet  free  trade  won  all  along  the  line.  In  all  political 
matters  indeed  one  may  say  with  Omar  Khayyam: 

"I  heard  great  argument 
lAbout  it  and  about :  but  evermore 
Came  out  by  the  same  door  where  in  I  went." 

Randolph  remained  in  India  four  months,  enjoying 
himself  immensely.  He  wrote  me  glowing  accounts  of 
his  travels  and  all  that  he  was  seeing.  These  letters  made 
me  greatly  regret  that  I  had  not  been  able  to  accompany 
him. 

Government  House, 

Bombay,  January  1,  1885. 

We  got  here  Tuesday  morning  early,  after  a  very  pleasant  voy- 
age across  the  Indian  Ocean.     I  found  the  Governor's  carriage 

152 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCLIILL 

waiting  at  the  dock,  and  we  came  up  here.  Sir  James  Fergusson 
is  most  kind  and  pleasant  and  so  are  all  the  Staff.  I  have  not 
done  any  sight-seeing  yet,  except  going  Into  Bombay  and  walk- 
ing about  the  streets  and  looking  at  the  people,  an  endless 
source  of  interest.  It  would  be  quite  useless  my  endeavor- 
ing to  describe  to  you  my  impression  of  this  town.  The 
complete  novelty  and  originality  of  everything  is  remarkable, 
and  one  is  never  tired  of  staring  and  wondering.  I  cannot  tell 
you  how  much  I  am  enjoying  myself  or  how  much  I  wish  you 
were  with  me.  The  Bombay  Club  asked  me  to  a  dinner  but  I 
declined,  as  there  would  have  been  speeches  and  more  or  less  of 
a  political  demonstration  against  the  RIpon  Party,  which  would 
never  have  done.  I  did  not  come  out  to  India  to  pursue  politics 
or  to  make  speeches. 

January  9. 

We  have  been  going  about  a  great  deal,  seeing  various  things 
and  people.  Sir  Jamsetjee  Jeejeebhoy,  a  great  Parsee,  took  us 
to  see  the  Towers  of  Silence,  where  they  place  all  the  dead 
Parsee  bodies  to  be  eaten  by  vultures.  I  was  asked  to  write  my 
opinion  of  their  process  In  their  books,  and  composed  a  highly 
qualified  and  ambiguous  impression  which  would  have  done 
credit  to  Gladstone. 

Last  night  we  dined  at  the  Byculla  Club  with  several  gentle- 
men, when  an  American  lady  gave  us  some  very  dull  recitations 
from  Tennyson ;  we  were  all  much  bored.  I  had  a  long  Inter- 
view with  eight  of  the  leading  native  politicians  on  Wednesday 
morning  on  Indian  politics,  in  which  they  set  forth  with  great 
ability  their  various  grievances.  We  leave  to-night  for  Indore, 
and  after  that  go  to  Jaipur,  Agra,  Delhi  and  Lucknow,  which 
last  place  we  hope  to  reach  about  the  21st.  From  there  I  go 
to  spend  a  week  or  ten  days  with  Colonel  Murray  in  the  district 
which  he  administrates,  somewhere  on  the  borders  of  Nepaul. 
We  shall  be  In  camp,  and  moving  about  every  day,  and  I  shall 
be  able  to  see  something  of  the  details  of  Indian  administration 

153 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

and  also  lots  of  sport;  but  of  this  last  I  shall  be  a  spectator 
rather  than  an  actor.  You  have  no  idea  how  extraordinarily 
polite  people  are  out  here,  and  what  trouble  they  take  to 
amuse  me. 

The  Residency, 

Indore,  January  14<. 

We  were  met  at  the  junction  for  Indore  by  Captain  F.,  of 
Holkar's  service,  who  informed  us  that  Holkar  was  away  from 
his  capital  and  was  ill,  but  would  come  to  a  station  near  and 
meet  us ;  and  presently  there  we  found  him,  drawn  up  with  all 
his  Court.  We  had  an  interview  of  about  half  an  hour,  while 
the  other  unfortunate  passengers  were  kept  waiting.  He  was 
most  gracious  and  very  intelligent,  and  when  we  left  he  em- 
braced me!  At  Indore  we  found  his  son,  also  drawn  up,  and 
more  pow-wow.  In  the  evening  fireworks,  Hindu  drama, 
Nautch,  conjurers,  &c.  All  very  Hindu  and  delightful  the 
first  time  one  sees  it,  but  I  can  quite  imagine  that  after  a  time 
it  would  pall.  In  the  morning  Holkar  sent  us  out  cheetah- 
hunting  for  black  buck;  however,  the  cheetah  was  sulky  and 
would  not  run  well,  so  did  not  catch  one.  We  then  took  our 
rifles,  and  I  shot  three  and  Thomas  ^  two. 

In  Camp, 

DuDNA,  February  1. 

Here  we  are  in  camp  in  the  middle  of  an  immense  forest  at  the 
foot  of  the  Himalayas.  We  have  been  leading  a  very  enjoyable 
life  since  we  left  Lucknow  and  Colonel  Murray.  Out  all  day 
careering  round  on  elephants  after  game,  sleeping  in  tents  at 
night,  always  at  a  different  place,  always  hungry  for  break- 
fast, very  hungry  for  dinner — two  sensations  to  me  which  have 
the  attraction  of  novelty.  The  whole  thing  is  a  charming 
change  after  racketing  about  in  railways  from  town  to  town. 
We  have  not  seen  much  game  I  must  admit,  as  it  is  far  too 

1  Private  Secretary. 

154 


a 


> 
H 

w 
r 
w 
z 

w 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

early  in  the  year  and,  no  grass  being  burnt  and  much  water 
being  about,  the  wild  animals  are  very  widely  scattered,  and 
shots  are  few  and  far  between;  though  yesterday  we  hunted 
one  leopard  which  ultimately  escaped  after  being  much  fired 
at  and,  I  think,  grievously  wounded.  I  shot  a  very  nice  swamp 
deer  and  Thomas  a  nilghai  or  blue  bull.  We  also  shot  pea-fowl, 
bustards,  and  partridges  and  every  variety  of  bird.  We  have 
fifteen  elephants,  and  these  creatures  are  an  unfailing  source  of 
interest  and  amusement.  I  think  an  elephant  is  the  best  mode 
of  conveyance  I  know.  He  cannot  come  to  grief;  he  never 
tumbles  down  nor  runs  away  (at  least,  not  on  the  march)  ; 
nothing  stops  him;  and  when  you  get  accustomed  to  his  pace 
he  is  not  tiring.  You  would  not  believe  what  steep  places  they 
get  up  and  down  or  what  thick,  almost  impenetrable,  jungle 
they  go  through.  If  a  tree  is  in  the  way,  and  not  too  large 
a  one,  they  pull  it  down;  if  a  branch  hangs  too  low  for  the 
howdah  to  go  under,  they  break  it  off.  They  are  certainly 
most  wonderful  animals,  and  life  in  many  parts  of  India  would 
be  impossible  without  them.  The  scenery  all  round  here  is 
lovely — very  wild  and  with  splendid  woodland  effects.  We  have 
spent  more  days  in  camp  here  than  we  meant,  which  has  altered 
our  plans  a  httle,  but  I  hke  so  much  seeing  the  country  and  the 
people. 

What  explosions  there  are  in  London !  I  think  it  verj'^  amia- 
ble of  the  dynamite  people  to  blow  up  the  House  of  Commons 
when  we  are  all  away;  they  might  have  chosen  a  more  incon- 
venient moment. 

Government  House, 

Calcutta,  February  8. 
I  HAVE  had  the  great  good  fortune  to  kill  a  tiger.    It  was  our 
last  day,  and  the  party  proposed  to  shoot  ducks  and  snipe; 
but  for  that  I  did  not  much  care  and  suggested  that  I  and  a 
Mr.  Hersey  (an  English  gentleman  who  is  living  in  the  dis- 

157 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

trict)  should  go  Into  the  forest  on  the  chance  of  seeing  deer 
and  perhaps  getting  a  sambur-stag,  while  the  others  went  to 
shoot  ducks.  This  was  agreed  to,  and  the  others  bet  fifty 
rupees  they  would  have  the  heaviest  bag.  Well,  Hersey  and  I, 
each  on  an  elephant  and  accompanied  only  by  two  other  ele- 
phants, were  beating  an  open  space  in  the  forest  when  I  came 
upon  the  recently  killed  carcass  of  a  hog,  half  devoured.  Her- 
sey, when  he  saw  it,  declared  it  was  quite  fresh,  and  that  the 
tiger  must  be  close  by.  You  may  imagine  the  excitement.  We 
beat  on  through  the  place  and  then  came  through  it  again,  for 
it  was  very  thick  high  grass.  All  of  a  sudden  out  bundled  this 
huge  creature,  right  under  the  nose  of  Hersey's  elepha.nt,  and 
made  off  across  some  ground  which  was  slightly  open.  Hersey 
fired,  and  missed.  I  fired  and  hit  him  just  above  the  tail.  (A 
very  good  shot,  for  he  only  showed  me  his  stern,  and  he 
was  at  least  forty  yards  off.)  Hersey  then  fired  his  second 
barrel,  and  broke  his  shoulder,  which  brought  him  up  (literally 
with  a  round  turn).  He  took  refuge  in  a  patch  of  grass  about 
fifty  yards  from  us  where  we  could  just  see  bits  of  him.  Heav- 
ens, how  he  growled  and  what  a  rage  he  was  in!  He  would 
have  charged  us  but  that  he  was  disabled  by  Hersey's  last  shot. 
We  remained  still,  and  gave  him  four  or  five  more  shots,  which, 
on  subsequent  examination,  we  found  all  told ;  and  then,  after 
about  five  minutes'  more  awful  growling,  he  expired.  Great  joy 
to  all.  The  good  luck  of  getting  him  was  unheard  of  at  this 
time  of  year;  the  odds  were  a  hundred  to  one  against  such  a 
thing.  He  was  a  magnificent  specimen,  nine  feet  seven  inches 
In  length,  and  a  splendid  skin — which  will,  I  think,  look  very 
well  in  Grosvenor  Square.  This  is  certainly  the  acme  of  sport. 
I  never  shall  forget  the  Impression  produced  by  tills  huge  brute 
breaking  cover;  or.  Indeed,  the  mingled  joy  and  consternation 
of  the  other  party  when  they  saw  him — for  they  had  to  pay  up 
fifty  rupees.  They  had  got  a  black  buck  and  a  blue  bull,  and 
thought  they  had  certainly  won. 

158 


LORD  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Tigers  in  the  Zoo  give  one  very  little  idea  of  what  the  wild 
animal  is  like. 


Government  House, 

Calcutta,  February  10. 
I  hope  to  leave  Bombay  March  20th  and  return  via  Marseilles, 
in  which  case  I  should  be  back  in  London  about  the  11th  or  12th 
of  April.  I  do  not  think  I  shall  be  able  to  stop  in  Paris,  as  I  guess 
the  House  of  Commons  will  be  just  reassembling  after  Easter, 
and  it  would  be  a  good  moment  to  drop  in  upon  that  body.  It 
is  extremely  pleasant  here.  The  DufFerins  are  very  kind  and 
easy-going ;  the  Staff,  too,  are  amiable ;  and  Bill  Beresford  does 
everything  he  can  for  one.  Yesterday  the  Government  tele- 
graphed to  DufFerin  to  despatch  a  brigade  of  Indian  troops 
and  thirty  miles  of  railway  plant  to  Suakim.  Great  prepara- 
tions at  once  made;  late  at  night  comes  an  order  from  London 
countermanding  the  whole  thing.  DufFerin,  diplomatist  as  he 
is,  could  not  conceal  his  disgust  at  this  vacillation  when  they 
handed  him  the  telegram  on  our  return  from  dinner.  I  tele- 
graphed to  Borthwick,  and  I  hope  I  put  the  fat  in  the  fire. 

Rewah,  February  17. 
I  GOT  a  telegram  from  WolfF  yesterday,  through  Pender,  saying 
that  afFairs  were  pressing  and  a  crisis  impending  and  inquiring 
when  I  was  coming  back.  Mais  je  connais  mon  Wolff;  he  has 
crisis  on  the  brain  and,  in  any  case,  no  political  contingency 
will  hasten  my  return  by  an  hour.  I  expect  the  Government 
will  try  and  get  put  out  and  the  Toi'ies  will  try  to  come  in;  I 
wish  them  joy  of  it. 

On  Sunday  morning  General  Roberts  turned  up,  and  we  had 
a  jolly  day ;  lots  of  talk.  The  General  is  all  I  had  imagined  him 
to  be.  He  is  very  keen  on  taking  me  up  the  frontier  to  Pesha- 
war and  Quetta.    It  would  be  most  pleasant  if  it  could  come  off, 

161 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

and  one  would  learn  a  great  deal  about  that  most  mysterious 
problem,  "the  dangers  of  the  Russian  advance" ;  but  there  is  no 
chance  of  it. 

Benakes,  February  24. 

This  place  is  the  most  distinctly  Hindu  city  I  have  yet  seen ; 
old  and  curious  in  every  part.  We  are  leaving  for  one  of  the 
Maharajah's  palaces,  or  villa  rather.  We  are  extremely  bien 
loges  et  nourr'is,  with  a  retinue  of  servants  and  carriages  at  all 
times  ready.  There  is  an  old  Rajah,  Siva  Prasad,  an  interesting 
and  experienced  old  man  who  acts  as  guide;  he  speaks  English 
perfectly  though  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  and  indulges  in  endless 
dissertations  on  Indian  politics.  Yesterday  morning  we  started 
off  to  see  the  Maharajah's  royal  palace  of  Ramnugger.  Very 
great  reception ;  all  the  retainers,  elephants,  horses,  &c.,  to- 
gether with  army — the  latter  about  100  strong — drawn  up  in  a 
long  avenue  from  the  gates  to  the  door.  The  army  gave  a  royal 
salute,  and  the  band  played  "God  save  the  Queen,"  which  I  had 
to  receive  with  dignity  and  gravity ;  rather  difficult !  The 
Maharajah's  grandson,  a  boy  of  ten,  met  us  at  the  door,  and  his 
son  a  man  of  thirty,  half  way  up  the  staircase;  such  are  the 
gradations  of  Oriental  etiquette.  The  Maharajah  was  not 
there,  as  he  is  old  and  infirm,  and  was  keeping  himself  for  the 
evening.  Then  Nautch  girls  and  mummers,  which,  so  early  in 
the  morning,  were  out  of  place ;  and  so  on. 

Later  we  took  a  boat,  came  down  the  Ganges,  and  saw  all  the 
Benares  people  bathing — thousands.  As  you  know,  this  is  part 
of  their  religion.  The  water  is  very  dirty,  but  they  lap  up 
quantities  of  it,  as  it  is  very  "holy" ;  also  there  were  to  be  seen 
the  burning  Ghats,  Avhere  all  the  dead  are  cremated.  There  were 
five  bodies  burning,  each  on  its  own  little  pile  of  fagots;  but 
the  whole  sight  was  most  curious  and  I  am  going  again  this 
morning  to  have  another  look.  Benares  is  a  very  prosperous 
city,  as  all  the  rich  people  from  all  parts  of  India  come  here  to 
spend  the  end  of  their  days.     Any  Hindu  who  dies  at  Benares, 

162 


LADY  KANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

and  whose  ashes  are  thrown  into  the  Ganges,  goes  right  bang  up 
to  heaven  without  stopping,  no  matter  how  great  a  rascal  he 
may  have  been.  I  think  the  G.  O.  M.  ought  to  come  here ;  it  is 
his  best  chance. 

In  the  evening  the  Maharajah  gave  a  party  to  all  the  native 
notabihties  of  the  city ;  great  attendance  of  Baboos.  Many  of 
them  speak  English,  and  some  appear  to  be  very  clever  men,  but 
I  have  had  so  much  pow-wow  that  I  did  not  talk  to  them  much. 
I  discovered  a  great  scandal  here  the  evening  of  my  arrival.  I 
found  the  magistrate  and  police  were  impressing  Bheesties,  or 
water-carriers,  for  service  in  the  Soudan ;  great  consternation  in 
the  profession,  and  all  the  Bheesties  were  hiding  and  were  being 
actively  hunted  up  by  the  police.  I  investigated  the  matter, 
questioned  the  head  of  the  poHce,  and  went  and  saw  three  of  the 
victims  for  the  Mahdi.  The  poor  creatures  fell  at  my  feet  in 
the  dust,  screaming  not  to  go.  I  was  very  angry,  and  tele- 
graphed to  Sir  Alfred  Lyall,  the  Lieutenant-Governor  of  the 
North  West  Provinces,  and  an  inquiry  is  being  made  which  will, 
I  hope,  save  these  unfortunate  persons  from  a  service  to  them 
terrible.  This  little  incident  of  our  rule  goes  far  to  explain 
why  we  make  no  progress  in  popularity  among  the  people. 

Jaipue,  March  3,  1885. 

We  only  remained  at  Delhi  two  days  as  the  hotel  was  piggy> 
and  we  moved  to  the  Club  at  Agra,  which  is  very  comfortable, 
with  excellent  food  and  wine.  This  also  gave  us  opportunity  of 
seeing  the  "Taj"  by  moonlight,  which  we  were  not  able  to  do 
last  time,  and  which  is  an  unequalled  sight.  Also  we  went  to 
dine  at  the  house  of  a  native  judge — a  very  interesting  and 
clever  man ;  we  met  a  most  curious  collection  of  native  notabil- 
ities. The  natives  are  much  pleased  when  one  goes  to  their 
houses,  for  the  officials  out  here  hold  themselves  much  too  high 
and  never  seek  any  intercourse  with  the  native  out  of  official 
lines ;  they  are  very  foolish. 

«  163 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

We  go  on  to-night  to  Baroda,  where  the  Guicowar  is  organ- 
ising a  tiger  hunt.  I  almost  think  I  am  getting  a  httle  tired  of 
traveling,  and  shall  be  glad  to  find  myself  on  board  ship. 

As  appears  from  these  letters,  Lord  Randolph's  re- 
lations with  Lord  and  Lady  Dufferin  were  of  the  most 
cordial  kind,  and  this  friendship  stood  him  in  good  stead 
when  shortly  after  his  return  to  England  he  was  ap- 
pointed to  the  India  Office.  Many  years  later  as  I  was 
passing  through  Paris,  Lord  Dufferin,  who  was  then 
Ambassador  there,  showed  me  much  kindness.  Refer- 
ring to  his  relations  with  Randolph  while  Viceroy  in 
India,  he  says  in  the  following  letter : 

British  Embassy, 

Paris,  March  14,  1895. 
My  dear  Lady  Randolph, 

I  have  been  so  sorry  not  to  be  able  to  come  and  see  you ;  but 
ever  since  your  arrival  I  have  been  laid  up  almost  continuously 
with  what  they  call  here  "la  grippe,^'  and  I  have  only  just  be- 
gun to  go  out.  I  would  so  like  to  be  allowed  to  come  and  pay 
you  a  visit.  I  suppose  like  most  ladies,  you  are  in  late,  or  would 
you  prefer  me  to  come  at  an  earlier  hour? 

Of  course  there  is  nothing  that  Lady  Dufferin  and  I  would 
not  be  anxious  to  do  to  make  your  stay  in  Paris  as  little  sad  and 
irksome  as  possible.  As  I  am  sure  you  must  know,  I  had  the 
greatest  regard  and  personal  affection  for  your  husband. 

He  quite  won  my  heart  when  he  paid  us  a  visit  in  India,  and 
when  afterwards  he  became  Secretary  of  State,  I  found  him 
more  courteous,  more  considerate,  more  full  of  sympathy,  than 
any  of  those  with  whom  I  had  previously  worked.  In  short,  it  is 
impossible  to  say  what  a  pleasure  it  was  to  me  to  have  been  as- 
sociated with  him  in  the  Government  of  India.    He  always  came 

164 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

to  see  me  when  he  passed  through  Paris,  and  it  was  a  renewed 
dehght  to  have  a  chat  with  him.   .   .   . 
Believe  me,  my  dear  Lady  Randolph, 

Yours  most  sincerely, 

DUFFERIN  AND  AVA. 


165 


CHAPTER  VIII 


OFFICE  AND  RESIGNATION 


IN  the  absence  of  Lord  Randolph  in  India,  the  politi- 
cal horizon  had  grown  very  dark  for  the  Liberal 
Government,  which  fell  shortly  after  his  return 
(1885) .  The  triumphant  Fourth  Party  now  reaped  the 
reward  of  their  labors,  all  being  included  in  the  new  Ad- 
ministration. Great  was  the  excitement  and  many  the 
pourparlers  at  Connaught  Place.  Randolph  was  of- 
fered the  post  of  Secretary  of  State  for  India,  by  Lord 
Salisbury,  and  accepted  it,  but  on  the  understanding 
that  Sir  Henry  Wolff  and  Mr.  Gorst,  who  had  "borne 
the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day"  with  him,  should  be  in- 
cluded. Lord  Salisbury  demurred,  but  finally  gave  way 
under  pressure.  Having  joined  the  Government,  Ran- 
dolph was  now  obliged  to  seek  reelection  at  Woodstock. 
His  new  office  giving  him  an  enormous  amount  of  work, 
he  made  up  his  mind  not  to  contest  it  personally.  I  was 
therefore  pressed  into  the  service.  Of  nine  elections  in 
which  I  have  taken  a  more  or  less  active  part  (Wood- 
stock twice,  Birmingham  three  times,  Paddington  twice, 
Oldham  and  Manchester  once  each) ,  if  Birmingham  was 
the  most  laborious,  I  think  Woodstock  was  the  one  which 
left  the  pleasantest  memories. 

Accompanied   by   my   sister-in-law,    the    late   Lady 
Howe — then  Lady  Georgiana  Curzon— we  stayed  at 

166 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Blenheim,  but  had  our  Committee  rooms  at  the  Bear 
Hotel  in  Woodstock.  There  we  held  daily  confabula- 
tions with  the  friends  and  Members  of  Parliament  who 
had  come  to  help.  We  were  most  important,  and  felt 
that  the  eyes  of  the  world  were  upon  us.  Reveling  in  the 
hustle  and  bustle  of  the  Committee  rooms,  marshaling 
our  forces,  and  hearing  the  hourly  reports  of  how  the 
campaign  was  progressing,  I  felt  like  a  general  holding 
a  council-of-war  with  his  staiF  in  the  heat  of  a  battle.  A. 
was  doubtful,  B.  obdurate,  while  C.'s  wife,  a  wicked, 
abominable  Radical,  was  trying  to  influence  her  husband 
whom  we  thought  secure,  to  vote  the  wrong  way.  At 
once  they  must  be  visited  and  our  arsenal  of  arguments 
brought  to  bear  on  them.  Sometimes  with  these  simple 
country  folk  a  pleading  look,  and  an  imploring  "Oh, 
please  vote  for  my  husband ;  I  shall  be  so  unhappy  if  he 
does  not  get  in,"  or  "If  you  want  to  be  on  the  winning 
side,  vote  for  us;  as  of  course  we  are  going  to  win," 
would  be  as  eff'ective  as  the  election  agent's  longest 
speeches  on  the  iniquity  of  Mr.  Chamberlain's  unauth- 
orized program  or  Mr.  Gladstone's  "disgraceful"  atti- 
tude at  the  death  of  Gordon.  In  some  ways  the  work 
was  arduous  enough. 

The  Primrose  League  was  still  in  an  embryonic  state 
in  Woodstock,  and  there  was  no  Habitation  to  fur- 
nish us  with  the  Primrose  Dames,  who  for  the  last 
twenty  years  have  taken  a  prominent  part  at  every  elec- 
tion. The  distances  to  cover  were  great,  and  motors 
were  not  in  existence.  Luckily,  Lady  Georgiana  Cur- 
zon,  who  was  a  beautiful  driver,  brought  down  her  well- 
known  tandem,  and  we  scoured  the  country  with  our 
smart  turnout,  the  horses  gaily  decorated  with  ribbons  of 

167 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

pink  and  brown,  Randolph's  racing  colors.  Sometimes 
we  would  drive  into  the  fields,  and  getting  down,  climb 
the  hayricks,  falling  upon  our  unwary  prey  at  his  work. 
There  was  no  escaping  us.  Many  of  the  voters  of  those 
days  went  no  further  than  their  colors.  "I  votes  red"  or 
"blue,"  as  the  case  might  be,  and  no  talking,  however 
forcible  or  subtle  could  move  them.  Party  feeling  ran 
high,  and  in  outlying  districts  we  would  frequently  be 
pursued  by  our  opponents,  jeering  and  shouting  at  us; 
but  this  we  rather  enjoyed.  We  were  treated  to  jing- 
ling rhymes,  the  following  being  a  specimen : 

But  just  as  I  was  talking 
With  Neighbour  Brown  and  walking 
To  take  a  mug  of  beer  at  the  Unicorn  and  Lion, 
(For  there  's  somehow  a  connection 
Between  free  beer  and  election) 

Who  should  come  but  Lady  Churchill,  with  a  turnout  that  was 
fine. 

'And  before  me  stopped  her  horses, 

As  she  marshaled  all  her  forces, 

And  before  I  knew  what  happened  I  had  promised  her  my  vote; 

And  before  I  quite  recovered 

From  the  vision  that  had  hovered, 

'T  was  much  too  late  to  rally,  and  I  had  changed  my  coat. 

And  over  Woodstock  darted 

On  their  mission  brave,  whole-hearted. 

The  tandem  and  their  driver  and  the  ribbons  pink  and  brown. 

And  a  smile  that  twinkled  over. 

And  that  made  a  man  most  love  her 

Took  the  hearts  and  votes  of  all  Liberals  in  the  town. 

168 


cr 

O 

» 

- 

W 

3* 

n 

a 

> 

o 

1 

■<: 

»q 

Tl 

r 

3" 

o 

r* 

> 

a 

n 

z 

n 

n. 

r 

rt 

w 

;:! 

3 

r 

o 

m 

3 

n 

'~' 

n 

H 

Q. 

^ 

O 

3 

y. 

m 

ET 

m 

fll 

w 

?3 

X 
o 

z 

i 

C) 

■— ' 

3 

H 

o 
o 

O 

(U 

r; 

a 

3 

SO 

w 

Wl 

3* 

o 

iyi 

1 

^ 

s: 

o 

o 

a 

ifl 

in 

G. 

O 

LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Bless  my  soul !  that  Yankee  lady, 

Whether  day  was  bright  or  shady, 

Dashed  about  the  district  like  an  oriflamme  of  war. 

When  the  voters  saw  her  bonnet. 

With  the  bright  pink  roses  on  it. 

They  followed  as  the  soldiers  did  the  Helmet  of  Navarre. 

At  the  end  of  a  tiring  fortnight,  Randolph  was  re- 
turned at  the  head  of  the  poll.  From  the  window  of  the 
Bear  Hotel  I  made  a  little  speech  to  the  crowd,  and 
thanked  them  "from  the  bottom  of  my  heart"  for  return- 
ing my  husband  for  the  third  time.  I  surpassed  the 
fondest  hopes  of  the  Suffragettes,  and  thought  I  was 
duly  elected,  and  I  certainly  experienced  all  the  pleasure 
and  gratification  of  being  a  successful  candidate.  I  re- 
turned to  London  feeling  that  I  had  done  a  very  big 
thing,  and  was  surprised  and  astonished  that  the  crowds 
in  the  streets  looked  at  me  with  indifference.  I  often 
think  that  these  must  be  the  sensations  of  a  newly  made 
Member  of  Parliament  when  he  first  goes  to  the  House 
of  Commons,  fresh  from  the  hustings  of  his  own  meet- 
ings, where  his  dullest  and  silliest  inanity  is  listened  to 
and  applauded.  In  the  House  he  finds  his  level,  alas! 
only  too  soon,  and  in  a  cold  and  inattentive  audience 
realizes  that  perhaps  he  may  not  be  the  born  orator  he 
was  led  to  believe. 

The  following  letter  from  Lord  James  of  Hereford, 
then  Sir  Henry  James,  alludes  to  the  Woodstock  elec- 
tion. 

T.^-    -rv        T         -r*  New  Court,  Temple,  1885. 

My  Dear  Lady  Randolph  : 

You  must  let  me  very  sincerely  and  heartily  congratulate  you 
on  the  result  of  the  election,  especially  as  that  result  proceeded 

171 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

so   very   much   from   your   personal  exertions.      Everybody   is 
praising  you  very  much. 

But  my  gratification  is  slightly  impaired  by  feehng  I  must  in- 
troduce a  new  Corrupt  Practices  Act.  Tandems  must  be  put 
down,  and  certainly  some  alteration — a  correspondent  informs 
me — must  be  made  in  the  means  of  ascent  and  descent  there- 
from ;  then  arch  looks  have  to  be  scheduled,  and  nothing  must  be 
said  "from  my  heart."  The  graceful  wave  of  a  pocket  handker- 
chief will  have  to  be  dealt  with  in  committee. 

Still,  I  am  very  glad. 

Yours  most  truly, 

Henry  James. 


Of  a  very  different  order  from  Woodstock  was  the 
contest  for  Birmingham  at  the  General  Election  of 
1885,  when  Randolph  and  Colonel  Burnaby  opposed 
Mr.  John  Bright  and  Mr.  Chamberlain.  During  the 
election  I  had  occasion  to  see  a  good  deal  of  Colonel 
Burnaby,  whose  "Ride  to  Khiva"  gave  one  an  idea  of  his 
adventurous  spirit.  He  was  a  gentle  voiced,  amiable 
man,  notwithstanding  an  enormous  frame  and  gigantic 
strength.  I  remember  one  night  in  Birmingham,  that 
while  walking  back  after  a  meeting  to  the  hotel  where 
we  were  staying,  we  encountered  a  crowd  of  opponents, 
who  were  inclined  to  be  hostile,  jostling  us  in  such  an 
alarming  manner  that  I  became  nervous ;  but  seemingly 
with  the  wave  of  his  arm.  Colonel  Burnaby  scattered 
them.  Innumerable  were  the  stories  told  about  him. 
Once  at  Windsor  Barracks,  for  a  bet,  he  walked  up  a 
narrow  staircase  with  a  fair-sized  pony  under  each  arm. 
The  dumb-bells  he  exercised  with  weighed  two  hundred 
pounds,  and  on  one  occasion,  hearing  a  brother-officer 

172 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

(who,  by  the  way,  was  six  foot  two)  make  some  dispar- 
aging remark  about  him,  he  took  him  up  and  flung  him 
across  the  room.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  fact  of  landing 
on  a  sofa,  the  wretched  man  would  have  had  his  back 
broken.  A  few  months  after  the  election  Colonel  Bur- 
naby  was  killed  in  action  at  Abu  Klea.  In  one  of  his  let- 
ters from  India  Randolph  says:  "Poor  Fred  Burnaby's 
death  is  a  great  blow  to  me,  and  it  was  so  sad  getting  his 
letter  inclosed  in  yours  this  morning.  I  wonder  if  he 
got  my  letter — I  shall  miss  him  greatly." 

The  Duchess  of  Marlborough,  my  mother-in-law, 
came  down  to  help  me.  It  was  the  first  time  that  women 
had  ever  indulged  in  any  personal  canvassing  in  Birm- 
ingham, and  we  did  it  thoroughly.  Every  house  in  the 
constituency  was  visited.  The  Duchess  would  go  in  one 
direction,  and  I  in  another ;  the  constituency  was  a  large 
one,  and  the  work  arduous.  The  voters  were  much  more 
enlightened  than  the  agricultural  laborers  of  Oxford- 
shire ;  the  men  particularly  were  very  argimientative  and 
were  well  up  in  the  questions  of  the  day.  The  wives  of 
the  Radicals  were  also  admirably  informed,  and  on  more 
than  one  occasion  routed  me  completely.  Sometimes  I 
invaded  a  factory  addressing  a  few  words  to  the  men  in 
their  dinner-hour.  On  one  occasion  I  was  received  in 
sullen  silence;  when  I  inquired  why,  one,  speaking  for 
the  rest,  said  they  did  not  like  being  asked  for  their  vote. 
"But  you  have  something  I  want,"  I  cried ;  "how  am  I  to 
get  it  if  I  do  not  ask  for  it?"  This  struck  them  as  quite 
reasonable  and  when  I  left  they  cheered  me.  Whether 
or  not  I  secured  any  votes  I  shall  never  know. 

The  excitements  and  amusing  incidents  repaid  one  for 
the  fatigue.    During  the  whole  of  the  election  I  never 

173 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

encountered  a  disagreeable  incident  or  any  rudeness, 
however  poor  the  slum  into  which  I  went.  Only  once  did 
I  come  across  a  Philistine — a  publican  who  was  in  the 
cellar  when  I  called.  "Lady  Churchill  wants  to  see 
you,"  said  the  wife  through  the  trap-door.  "Oh,  does 
she?"  came  in  guttural  tones  from  behind  the  barrels  of 

beer.  "Well,  tell  Mrs.  Churchill  to  go  to ,"  at  which 

I  beat  a  hasty  retreat.  On  the  other  hand  I  had  a  great 
success  with  a  butcher,  with  whom  I  exchanged  flowers; 
he  gave  me  his  vote  and  some  time  after  the  election  I 
was  the  proud  recipient  of  half  a  sheep,  sent  by  my  use- 
ful admirer.  The  election,  alas !  was  not  won,  but  to  have 
brought  down  the  great  Mr.  Bright 's  majority  to  400 
was  a  virtual  triumph.  The  Radical  Caucus  and  Mr. 
Chamberlain's  stronghold  were  shaken  to  their  founda- 
tion. In  spite  of  his  defeat,  Randolph  did  not  give  up 
hope  of  contesting  Birmingham  again.  He  kept  in 
touch  with  the  constituency,  and  often  held  meetings 
there. 

Of  political  and  electioneering  anecdotes  one  can 
often  say,  "^'si  non  e  vero  e  ben  trovato."  But  among  true 
experiences  amusing  or  otherwise,  I  remember  one  in 
particular.  Being  asked  to  help  canvass  for  Mr.  Burdett- 
Coutts,  I  was  pleading  with  a  waverer  for  his  vote. 
Waggishly  and  with  a  sly  look  he  said,  "If  I  could  get 
the  same  price  as  was  once  paid  by  the  Duchess  of  Dev- 
onshire for  a  vote,  I  think  I  could  promise."  "Thank 
you  very  much,"  I  replied,  "I  '11  let  the  Baroness  Bur- 
dett-Coutts  know  at  once." 

About  this  time  Sir  Henry  James,  of  whom  we  saw  a 
good  deal,  although  politically  he  was  of  the  "other  way 
of  thinking,"  being  a  Liberal,  was  instrumental  in  bring- 

174 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

ing  about  a  reconciliation  between  the  Prince  of  Wales 
and  Randolph.  Friendly  messages  had  already  been 
conveyed  from  his  Royal  Highness,  and  the  matter  fi- 
nally culminated  in  our  giving  a  dinner  for  the  Prince 
and  Princess  of  Wales.  Lord  Rosebery,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Gladstone,  Mr.  Henry  Chaplin,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Chauncey  Depew  were  among  the  guests.  The  dinner 
was  animated,  Mr.  Gladstone  and  Mr.  Chauncey  Depew 
keeping  the  ball  rolling.  This  reconciliation,  I  am 
happy  to  say,  was  a  lasting  one,  all  old  wounds  being 
healed.  A  few  days  later  the  peacemaker,  delighted 
with  his  success,  went  off  with  Randolph  for  a  little 
jaunt  abroad.  I  cannot  refrain  from  giving  the  letter 
Sir  Henry  James  wrote  me,  which  proves  what  good 
company  he  was. 

Grand  Hotel,  Paris,  Sunday. 
My  Dear  Lady  Randolph  : 

A  word  of  our  journey.  At  Charing  Cross  Station  (Friday 
morning)  the  Inspector  informed  me  it  was  blowing  roughly 
from  the  S.  E.  in  the  Channel.  R.  C.  derided  the  idea.  "Non- 
sense !  What  a  weak  creature  you  are !  Beautiful  day."  Ar- 
rived at  Folkestone,  captain's  cabin  reserved  for  two.  Ran- 
dolph spurned  it.    "Beastly  place !    I  shall  go  on  the  bridge." 

I  reclined  and  read,  and  saw  no  more  of  my  companion  until 
we  arrived  at  Boulogne.  At  first  I  could  not  find  him.  At  last 
a  sailor  came  up  to  me  and  said,  "The  gentleman  is  very  ill,  but 
he  is  trying  to  come  up-stairs  now."  Then  I  saw  a  figure  crawl- 
ing out  of  the  forecastle.  He  had  been  on  the  bridge,  but  had 
been  literally  washed  off  it  and  for  a  time  had  lain  on  the  deck 
with  the  sea  pouring  over  him.  It  had  been  the  roughest  pas- 
sage known,  I  believe,  for  years.  I  rushed  to  my  altered  friend. 
He  really  was  very  ill,  and  placed  a  fixed  gaze  on  the  ground, 

175 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

still  thinking  of,  and  feeling,  the  horrors  of  that  passage.  A 
stout,  red-haired  man  approached  him.  "Let  me,  as  one  of  your 
most  ardent  admirers,  shake  hands  with  you."  I  much  doubt  if 
that  man  will  ever  make  that  request  again.  Propping  himself 
up  by  means  of  my  umbrella,  tottering  notwithstanding,  sea 
water  running  away  in  large  quantities  from  his  great-coat,  a 
new  hat  quite  spoilt,  Lord  Randolph  slightly  inclined  a  fixed 
eye  embedded  in  a  ghastly  countenance  of  a  leaden  yellow  color 
upon  that  admirer,  who  fled.  In  the  buffet  old  Baillie  Cochrane 
quite  cheerfully  desired  "to  communicate  something  of  great  in- 
terest affecting  the  party."  This  time  a  slight  groan  was  heard, 
so  I  knew  my  fellow-traveller  was  improving.  At  length  he 
found  his  way  into  our  carriage,  reclining  on  cushions  and  cov- 
ered with  rugs.  In  two  minutes  he  was  asleep.  Before  Amiens 
he  awoke,  quite  sprightly  and  with  a  good  colour,  and  smoked 
two  cigarettes,  and  abused  Granville,  so  I  knew  he  was  quite 
well.  We  are  enjoying  ourselves  very  much — and  behaving  in  a 
most  exemplary  manner. 

If  I  had  a  decent  pen  and  ink  free  from  dust,  I  should  have 
made  this  a  most  interesting  letter. 

Yours,  dear  Lady  Randolph, 

Henry  James. 

Among  the  many  political  meetings  I  attended  with 
Randolph  during  those  two  years,  I  think  the  biggest 
and  most  imposing  was  that  held  in  the  Manchester  Drill 
Hall.  Eighteen  thousand  people  filled  the  place  to  suf- 
focation— no  singer  that  ever  lived  can  command  the  au- 
dience of  a  popular  politician.  If  the  building  had  held 
40,000  or  50,000,  it  would  still  have  been  crowded.  Most 
of  the  people  had  been  standing  for  two  hours  before  we 
arrived.  JVIanchester  gave  Randolph  a  magnificent  re- 
ception, thousands  lined  the  streets  and  covered  the  roofs 

176 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

of  the  houses  as  we  slowly  drove  through  the  town  in  a 
carriage  drawn  by  four  horses.  Over  200,000  people 
were  said  to  have  turned  out  that  day.  I  felt  very 
proud.  Randolph's  speech  lasted  for  over  two  hours. 
The  heat  was  great,  and  on  leaving  the  building  the 
crowd  pressed  round  the  carriage  to  such  an  extent  that 
two  men  were  killed.  I  was  also  with  Randolph  at 
Sheffield,  and  heard  the  famous  speech  in  which  he  asked 
Lord  Hartington  to  abandon  Gladstone  and  Home 
Rule  and  "come  over  and  help  us."  This  phrase  led  me 
later  into  trouble.  Happening  to  meet  Lord  Harting- 
ton at  dinner  while  he  was  still  making  up  his  mind  as  to 
whether  he  would  join  the  Liberal  Unionists  or  not,  I 
asked  him  if  he  intended  responding  to  Randolph's  invi- 
tation. "I  have  not  yet  decided;  but  when  I  do,  I  sup- 
pose I  shall  be  thought  either  a  man  or  a  mouse."  "Or  a 
rat,"  said  I.  Lord  Hartington  laughed,  as  the  French 
say,  ''d'un  rire  jaune."  Very  pleased  with  what  I  con- 
sidered my  "bon-mot,"  I  repeated  it  to  Randolph,  who, 
to  my  discomfiture,  gave  me  a  severe  lecture  on  the  in- 
iquity of  ill-timed  jests.  "Those  are  the  sort  of  remarks 
which  upset  a  coach,"  he  said. 

Many  of  our  Liberal  friends  were  in  great  trepida- 
tion at  that  time,  torn  between  their  hatred  of  Home 
Rule  and  their  reluctance  to  leave  the  "Grand  Old 
Man."  The  following  letter  from  Sir  Henry  James  is 
some  indication  of  their  feelings : 

28,  Wilton  Place,  Sunday. 
My  Dear  Lady  Randolph  : 

It  is  very  kind  of  you  and  the  Secretary  of  State  to  ask  me  to 
come  to  you  on  the  3d.     Of  course  I  will  do  so  with  the  greatest 

177 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

pleasure.    But  unless  the  horizon  clears  I  shall  not,  I  warn  you, 
be  very  lively. 

I  fear  a  ripple  of  scoffing  laughter,  but  still  I  am  really  in 
very  low  spirits.  I  see  no  way  out  of  the  breakers — worse  than 
breakers — which  we  have  drifted  into,  and  where  is  the  Pilot.? 

I  will  regard  No.  2  Connaught  Place  as  a  Lighthouse — but 
that  fixed — forgive  me  for  saying  by  way  of  correction — ro- 
tatory obiect  will  scarcely  suffice.         _^  ,   .     -, 
-^       ^                          -^                      Yours  most  truly, 

Henry  James. 
And  again  later  he  writes : 

Brooks's,  St.  James's  Street. 
My  Dear  Lady  Randolph  : 

Of  course  I  will  come  with  the  greatest  pleasure  on  Sunday 
week. 

Thanks  for  your  sympathy  on  account  of  my  Tuesday  night 

vote.     I  want  somebody's  for  I  am  having  a  little  rough  usage 

from  candid  friends.    I  know  I  intended  to  do  right  and  I  think 

and  hope  I  did  so.  ^^  .    ■      i 

^  Yours  most  truly, 

Henry  James. 

This  refers  to  the  division  on  Mr.  Jesse  Collings's 
amendment  to  the  address  which  took  place  on  Tuesday, 
January  26,  1886.  By  means  of  the  amendment  Mr. 
Gladstone  sought  to  turn  Lord  Salisbury's  Government 
out  of  office,  in  order  that  Home  Rule  might  be  brought 
forward.  Knowing  this,  seventeen  Liberals  including 
Lord  Hartington,  Mr.  Goschen,  and  Sir  Henry  James 
voted  with  the  Government  against  Mr.  Gladstone. 
Thus  was  laid  the  foundation  of  the  Liberal  Unionist 
Party. 

While  Randolph  was  at  the  India  Office,  I  was  told 
that  the  Order  of  the  Crown  of  India  would  be  given  to 

178 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

me  if  he  recommended  me  for  it.  This  decoration,  which 
was  instituted  by  Queen  Victoria  and  designed  by  the 
Duke  of  Albany,  has  a  pretty  pearl  and  turquoise  cipher 
attached  to  a  pale-blue  ribbon  edged  with  white.  I  ad- 
mit I  thought  it  would  be  very  nice  to  have  it,  but  Ran- 
dolph demurred  at  the  idea  of  recommending  his  own 
wife,  and  therefore  I  sorrowfully  gave  up  the  idea.  A 
few  months  later,  however,  much  to  my  delight,  the  fol- 
lowing letter  arrived : 

Windsor  Castle,  November  30,  1885. 
Dear  Lord  Randolph  : 

The  Queen  wishes  to  personally  confer  the  Insignia  of  the 
Order  of  the  Crown  of  India  on  Lady  Randolph  Churchill  on 
Friday  next  the  4th  of  December  at  three  o'clock. 
Will  she  come  back  here  to  luncheon  ? 

The  1 :10  train  from  Paddington  is  the  most  convenient  one, 
and  if  Lady  Randolph  will  let  me  hear  whether  she  comes  by  that 
or  another  train,  I  will  send  the  carriage  to  meet  her  here. 

Yours  very  truly, 

Henry  Ponsonby. 

On  the  appointed  day  I  went  to  Windsor,  having 
been  duly  apprised  by  a  note  received  in  the  morning 
from  a  lady-in-waiting,  as  to  what  garments  I  should 
appear  in. 

Lady  Randolph  Churchill  : 

Bonnet  and  morning  dress,  gray  gloves. 

To  kiss  the  Queen's  hand  after  receiving  the  decoration,  like 
the  gentlemen  to-day.    A  room  will  be  prepared  for  her. 

The  Queen,  with  one  of  the  Princesses  and  a  lady-in- 
waiting,  received  me  in  a  small  room.  She  stood  with  her 

179 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

back  to  the  window,  wearing  a  long  white  veil  which 
made  an  aureole  round  her  against  the  light.  Address- 
ing a  few  kind  words  to  me,  to  which  in  my  embarrass- 
ment I  made  some  inaudible  answer,  she  proceeded  to 
pin  the  order  on  my  left  shoulder.  I  remember  that  my 
black  velvet  dress  was  thickly  embroidered  with  jet,  so 
much  so  that  the  pin  could  find  no  hold,  and  unwittingly 
the  Queen  stuck  it  straight  into  me.  Although  like  the 
Spartan  boy  I  tried  to  hide  what  I  felt,  I  suppose  I  gave 
a  start,  and  the  Queen  realizing  what  she  had  done  was 
much  concerned.  Eventually  the  pin  was  put  right  and 
I  courtesied  myself  out  of  the  Royal  Presence.  As  I 
reached  the  door,  her  Majesty  suddenly  stepped  forward 
saying  with  a  smile,  "Oh!  you  have  forgotten  the  case," 
holding  it  out  to  me  at  the  same  time.  This  little  touch 
of  nature  relieved  an  otherwise  somewhat  formal  cere- 
mony. Remarking  afterward  to  the  lady-in-waiting 
that  I  was  afraid  I  had  been  awkward,  and  nervous, 
"You  need  not  be  troubled,"  she  answered,  "I  know  the 
Queen  felt  more  shy  than  you  did." 

Shortly  after  this  we  were  commanded  to  Windsor  to 
dine  and  sleep.  We  dined  in  rather  a  small  room,  the 
walls  of  which  were  hung  with  family  portraits  by  Win- 
terhalter.  Conversation  was  carried  on  in  whispers, 
which  I  thought  exceedingly  oppressive  and  conducive 
to  shyness.  When  the  Queen  spoke,  even  the  whispers 
ceased.  If  she  addressed  a  remark  to  you,  the  answer 
was  given  while  the  whole  company  listened. 

There  is  a  story  (which  I  give  for  what  it  is  worth) 
told  of  an  officer  who,  being  on  guard  at  the  Castle,  was 
asked  to  dine.  The  whispered  conversation  and  the  stiff- 
ness of  the  proceedings  beginning  to  weigh  on  him,  he 

180 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

thought  he  would  enliven  them  with  a  little  joke.  The 
Queen,  hearing  smothered  laughter,  asked  what  it  was 
about.  Scarlet  and  stammering,  the  poor  man  had  to  re- 
peat his  little  tale,  amid  dead  silence.  Fixing  a  cold  eye 
upon  him,  "We  are  not  amused,"  was  all  the  Queen  said. 

The  night  we  were  there,  the  household  seemed 
slightly  agitated,  and  the  Queen  retired  earlier  than 
usual;  so  they  said.  The  next  morning  we  understood 
the  reason  when  we  were  told  that  a  young  Prince  of 
Battenberg  had  been  born  that  night  in  the  Castle.  Fol- 
lowing the  ancient  custom  which  prescribes  that  a 
Cabinet  Minister  should  be  in  attendance  in  the  royal 
residence  on  such  occasions,  the  Home  Secretary,  Mr. 
Henry  Matthews,  had  been  hastily  sent  for  from  Lon- 
don, in  preference  to  Randolph,  whom  the  Queen 
thought  "too  young,"  although  he  was  a  married  man 
and  the  father  of  a  family,  as  well  as  a  Cabinet  Minister 
at  the  time,  besides  being  actually  in  the  house. 

India  and  things  Indian  loomed  largely  in  my  eyes 
that  winter,  and  I  acquired  more  knowledge  of  the  coun- 
try and  its  history  than  I  had  ever  possessed  before.  The 
Far  East,  although  I  had  never  been  there,  always  had 
a  great  fascination  for  me,  and  Randolph's  graphic  de- 
scriptions of  his  travels  made  me  very  envious. 

While  he  was  at  the  India  Office  I  was  called  upon  to 
help  Lady  Dufferin  with  the  fund  she  was  getting  up  in 
aid  of  the  National  Association  for  Supplying  Female 
Medical  Aid  to  the  Women  of  India.  This  was  the  be- 
ginning of  a  remarkable  institution  which  is  flourishing 
to-day.  Besides  giving  employment  to  numbers  of 
English  female  doctors,  it  opened,  as  Lady  Dufferin 
pointed  out,  a  career  for  native  women,  and  alleviated 

»  181 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

some  of  the  terrible  sufferings  of  others.  The  Lord 
Mayor  agreed  to  hold  a  meeting  at  the  Mansion  House 
in  aid  of  the  fund.  Already  I  had  collected  a  goodly 
sum.  Randolph  was  delighted  with  my  activity.  He 
wrote  to  me  from  Scotland : 

AUCHNASHELLACH, 

...  I  have  written  twenty-one  letters  to-day,  some  of  them 
long  ones,  so  you  won't  be  vexed  if  I  only  send  you  a  short 
scrawl.  I  think  your  letter  to  Lady  DufFerin  admirable  and  all 
your  plans  with  regard  to  her  fund  most  excellent. 

At  the  meeting  at  the  Mansion  House  a  handsome 
sum  was  subscribed.  Among  the  many  speeches,  I  re- 
member thinking  that  Mrs.  Fawcett's  was  by  far  the 
most  eloquent,  perhaps  on  account  of  its  simplicity,  free 
from  any  attempt  at  rhetorical  effect.  There  is  no  doubt 
that  a  woman's  high  pitched  voice  carries  very  far  in 
comparison  with  that  of  a  man,  and  when  in  the  matter 
of  delivery  the  manner  is  slightly  deprecatory,  it  be- 
comes very  effective,  particularly  to  the  male  sex. 

Lady  Dufferin,  who  was  watching  the  progress  of 
her  fund  from  afar,  wrote  me  the  following  letter: 

Government  House, 

Calcutta,  January  4,  1886. 
My  Dear  Lady  Randolph  : 

I  had  intended  writing  to  you  as  soon  as  I  should  get  to  Cal- 
cutta, but  I  have  let  some  time  slip  away  without  doing  so.  I 
hope  Lord  Randolph  told  you  that  I  wished  to  congratulate  you 
upon  getting  the  Crown  of  India.  I  was  so  glad  to  see  that  you 
had  it. 

182 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

I  am  going  to  ask  Sir  Henry  Ponsonby  to  pay  the  Queen's 
£100  into  Coutts's,  and  you  can  have  it  acknowledged  in  the 
"Times"  whenever  you  think  it  would  be  useful.  My  public 
meeting  takes  place  on  the  27th,  and  I  will  send  you  a  report. 
When  some  notice  of  this  appears  in  the  English  papers  it  might 
be  a  good  time  for  a  further  effort.  I  heard  from  Sir  Frederick 
Roberts  that  Lady  Burdett-Coutts  talked  of  subscribing,  I 
particularly  wish  not  to  ask  her  myself,  but  I  thought  that  I 
might  mention  the  fact  to  you.  We  are  getting  on  very  well, 
and  I  am  constantly  hearing  of  little  things  being  started  in  un- 
expected places. 

The  great  Durbungha  is  going  to  build  and  keep  up  a  dis- 
pensary, and  has  asked  me  to  go  down  to  lay  the  foundation- 
stone,  and  to-day  a  certain  Sir  Walter  de  Souza  has  promised  an 
annual  subscription  of  2400  rupees  for  training  women  in  Cal- 
cutta. 

Another  little  place  in  Bengal  has  set  up  a  dispensary — and 
so  on  throughout  the  country. 

We  are  just  entering  upon  the  short  and  sharp  labors  of  a 
season  which  is  being  cut  up  by  visits  to  Delhi  and  Burmah; 
there  are  so  very  few  English  visitors  here  this  winter,  I  suppose 
the  election  kept  all  travellers  at  home. 

To-day  Lord  Dufferin  has  been  employed  in  the  unpleasant 
task  of  putting  on  an  income  tax,  and  so  now  we  shall  probably 
hear  howls  of  execration  on  all  sides. 

I  hope  that  Lord  Randolph  is  quite  rested  after  all  his  elec- 
tion fatigues  and  is  quite  strong  and  ready  for  the  parliamen- 
tary encounter. 

I  remain,  dear  Lady  Randolph, 

Yours  sincerely, 

Hariot  Dufferin. 

The  political  events  which  led  to  Lord  Randolph 
Churchill's  resignation  of  the  post  of  Chancellor  of  the 

183 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Exchequer   and   Leader  of  the   House   of   Commons, 
which  he  held  in  Lord  Sahsbury's  second  administration, 
have  been  so  well  described  elsewhere^  that  it  is  not 
necessary  for  me  to  dilate  on  them  in  these  reminis- 
cences.    Although  the  recipient  of  many  confidences, 
so  little  did  I  realize  the  grave  step  Randolph  was  con- 
templating, that  I  was  at  that  moment  occupied  with  the 
details  of  a  reception  we  were  going  to  give  at  the  For- 
eign Office,  which  was  to  be  lent  to  us  for  the  occasion. 
Already  the  cards  had  been  printed.    The  night  before 
his  resignation  we  went  to  the  play  with  Sir  Henry 
Wolff.     Questioning  Randolph  as  to  the  list  of  guests 
for  the  party,  I  remember  being  puzzled  at  his  saying: 
"Oh!  I  should  n't  worry  about  it  if  I  were  you;  it  proba- 
bly will  never  take  place."    I  could  get  no  explanation 
of  his  meaning,  and  shortly  after  the  first  act  he  left  us 
ostensibly  to  go  to  the  club,  but  in  reality  to  go  to  the 
"Times"  office  and  give  them  the  letter  he  had  written  at 
Windsor  Castle  three  nights  before.    In  it  he  resigned 
all  he  had  worked  for  for  years,  and,  if  he  had  but  known 
it,  signed  his  political  death  warrant.     When  I  came 
down  to  breakfast,  the  fatal  paper  in  my  hand,  I  found 
him  calm  and  smiling.     "Quite  a  surprise  for  you,"  he 
said.     He  went  into  no  explanation,  and  I  felt  too  ut- 
terly crushed  and  miserable  to  ask  for  any,  or  even  to 
remonstrate.    Mr.  Moore  (the  permanent  Under-Secre- 
tary at  the  Treasury),  who  was  devoted  to  Randolph, 
rushed  in,  pale  and  anxious,  and  with  a  faltering  voice 
said  to  me,  "He  has  thrown  himself  from  the  top  of  the 
ladder,  and  will  never  reach  it  again!"    Alas!  he  proved 
too  true  a  prophet. 

1  Life  of  Lord  Randolph  Churchill  by  Winston  Churchill. 

184 


s 
< 

X 

o 

S 
□ 
z 

< 


CHAPTER  IX 

AFTER  RESIGNATION  — SANDRINGH AM 

WHEN  Lord  Randolph  Churchill  resigned  his 
position  as  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  and 
Leader  of  the  House  of  Commons,  the 
political  world  stood  aghast.  Friends  bemoaned,  and  the 
toadies  and  sycophants  fell  away  and  vanished.  His 
action  aroused  much  censure,  and  every  hand  seemed 
against  him ;  yet  his  only  crime  was  to  advocate  economy. 
How  well  I  remember  my  bitter  feelings  in  those  days! 
The  political  atmosphere  round  us  seemed  suddenly  full 
of  strife  and  treachery.  It  was  gall  and  wormwood  to 
me  to  hear  Randolph  abused  in  every  quarter, — often,  as 
I  thought,  by  the  very  men  who  owed  their  success,  if  not 
their  political  existence,  to  him.  On  every  side  I  heard  of 
the  defection  of  political  allies,  even  of  some  whom  we 
had  every  reason  to  believe  would  remain  loyal.  But  I 
suppose  the  flowing  tide  was  too  much  for  them,  and 
they  drifted  away  with  the  rest.  It  was  fated  that  the  first 
political  speech  made  after  Randolph's  resignation  should 
be  by  Sir  John  Gorst,  who  criticized  him  in  no  meas- 
ured terms.  Well  might  Randolph  have  exclaimed  with 
Zechariah,  "I  was  wounded  in  the  house  of  my  friends." 
In  speaking  some  years  later  of  Sir  John  at  a  public 

187 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

meeting,  Randolph  referred  to  him  as  "my  honorable 
friend."  To  me,  who  had  resented  what  I  rightly  or 
wrongly  considered  an  unfriendly  act  on  the  part  of  Sir 
John,  this  was  too  much,  and  I  remonstrated  warmly. 
"The  fact  is,"  said  Randolph,  laughing,  "it  slipped  out; 
I  forgot."  I  remember  hearing  Lord  Salisbury  say  that 
a  man  who  could  not  be  vindictive  was  not  a  strong  man. 
I  often  quoted  this  without  effect  to  Randolph. 

When  I  looked  back  at  the  few  preceding  months 
which  seemed  so  triumphant  and  full  of  promise,  the 
debacle  appeared  all  the  greater.  I  had  made  sure 
that  Randolph  would  enjoy  the  fruits  of  office  for 
years  to  come,  and  apart  from  the  honor  and  glory,  I 
regretted  those  same  "fruits."  But  on  this  subject  he 
was  adamant.  "Politics  and  money  do  not  go  to- 
gether," he  would  often  say  to  me;  "so  put  the  thought 
away." 

How  dark  those  days  seemed !  In  vain  I  tried  to  con- 
sole myself  with  the  thought  that  happiness  does  not  de- 
pend so  much  on  circumstances  as  on  one's  inner  self. 
But  I  have  always  found  in  practice  that  theories  are  of 
little  comfort.  The  vicissitudes  of  life  resemble  one  of 
those  gilded  balls  seen  in  a  fountain.  Thrown  up  by  the 
force  of  the  water,  it  flies  up  and  down ;  now  at  the  top, 
catching  the  rays  of  the  sun,  now  cast  into  the  depths, 
then  again  shooting  up,  sometimes  so  high  that  it  escapes 
altogether,  and  falls  to  the  ground. 

It  is  with  pleasure  that  I  turn  from  these  disagreeable 
reflections  to  the  remembrance  of  a  charming  visit  we 
had  paid  to  Sandringham  a  month  previous,  in  honor  of 
the  Prince  of  Wales's  birthday.  The  Prince  and  Prin- 
cess dispensed  their  hospitality  with  that  remarkable 

188 


STUDY  BY  GEORGE  FREDERICK  WATTS  FOR  A  PORTRAIT  OF 
KING  EDWARD  VII,  WHEX  PRINCE  OF  ^\■ALES 

The  orii^inal  is  in  the  Watts  Collection  at  Guildford.  Surrey 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

simplicity  of  which  Enghsh  royalty  alone  has  the  secret. 
One  felt  at  home  at  once ;  indeed,  the  life  was  the  same  as 
at  any  pleasant  country  house.  Breakfast,  which  began 
at  nine  o'clock,  was  served  at  small,  round  tables  in  a  din- 
ing-room decorated  with  Spanish  tapestries  given  by  the 
late  King  of  Spain,  The  men  were  in  shooting  get-up, 
and  the  ladies  in  any  dress  they  chose  to  affect — short 
skirts  and  thick  boots  or  elaborate  day  gowns.  No  one 
cared  or  noticed.  None  of  the  Royalties  appeared  before 
midday,  although  the  Prince  of  Wales  joined  the  shoot- 
ers, who  made  an  early  start  after  breakfast.  The 
feminine  contingent,  left  to  their  own  devices,  gen- 
erally congregated  in  the  large  hall,  which  contained 
writing-tables,  a  piano,  and  masses  of  books  and  news- 
papers. 

The  amount  of  scribbling  which  goes  on  in  a  country 
house,  and  in  which  Englishwomen  in  particular  in- 
dulge, is  always  a  source  of  astonishment  and  amuse- 
ment to  foreigners.  I  have  heard  them  exclaim:  "Mais 
qu'est-ce  qu'elles  ecrivent  toute  la  journee?"  No  for- 
eigner, indeed,  can  understand  the  Englishwoman's  busy 
life,  full  as  it  is  of  multitudinous  occupations  ranging 
from  household  duties  to  political  gatherings,  and  all 
necessitating  correspondence. 

Just  before  luncheon  we  sallied  forth  to  join  the 
shooters :  some  driving  and  others  walking  to  the  rendez- 
vous. The  Princess  of  Wales,  looking  in  her  neat  dress 
and  small  felt  hat  as  young  as  her  own  daughters,  would 
drive  a  pair  of  ponies.  The  luncheon  in  a  big  tent  was 
always  very  animated  and  sometimes  so  prolonged  that  a 
gentle  reminder  was  needed  of  the  birds  waiting  to  be 
shot.    At  this  time  the  young  princesses  were  unmarried. 

191 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

If  their  manners  in  public  were  perhaps  too  diffident  and 
shy  compared  with  those  of  foreign  royalties,  in  private 
they  were  full  of  gaiety  and  fun,  dearly  loving  a  joke, 
particularly  if  it  was  directed  against  some  familiar 
friend  who  might  be  staying  there. 

The  sport  was  exceedingly  good  and  well-managed, 
owing  to  the  Prince  of  Wales,  who,  an  excellent  shot 
himself,  took  a  personal  interest  in  the  arrangements  in- 
stead of  leaving  them  all  to  the  keepers.  The  ladies 
stayed  out  to  see  the  sport,  many  forming  a  gallery 
around  Lord  de  Grey,  who  was  one  of  the  guns  on  this 
occasion,  and  whose  wonderful  shooting  has  gained  him 
world-wide  reputation  among  sportsmen.  I  remember 
once  at  Panshanger,  when  I  was  staying  with  the  late 
Lord  Cowper,  seeing  Lord  de  Grey  shoot  in  one  stand 
fifty -two  birds  out  of  fifty-four,  and  for  a  bet  this  was 
done  with  one  hand.    He  had  two  loaders  and  three  guns. 

Five  o'clock  tea  was  a  feature  at  Sandringham.  The 
simplicity  of  the  day  attire  was  discarded  in  favor  of 
elaborate  tea-gowns.  After  tea,  Signor  Tosti,  who  was 
a  great  favorite  with  the  royal  family,  would  be  made  to 
sing  some  of  his  charming  songs.  He  would  ramble  on 
in  his  delightful  impromptu  manner  for  hours.  Besides 
his  musical  gifts,  he  was  a  most  amusing  man,  and  kept 
us  all  laughing  at  his  stories  and  witty  sallies.  Sometimes 
I  played  duets  with  the  Princess,  who  was  particularly 
fond  of  Brahms's  Hungarian  dances,  which  were  just 
then  in  vogue.  Or  it  might  be  that  we  would  go  to 
Princess  Victoria's  sitting-room,  where  there  were  two 
pianos,  and  struggle  with  a  concerto  of  Schumann.  The 
pace  set  was  terrific,  and  I  was  rather  glad  there  was  no 
audience. 

192 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Although  no  uniforms  were  worn  at  dinner,  this  was  a 
ceremonious  affair,  with  every  one  in  full  dress  and  dec- 
orations. Rather  unpunctual  in  those  days,  I  was  always 
on  the  verge  of  being  late.  The  clocks  were  put  half  an 
hour  in  advance ;  but  that  did  not  help  me,  as  I  traded  on 
the  fact,  forgetting  that  it  made  no  difference.  When 
every  one  was  assembled.  Their  Royal  Highnesses  would 
be  announced,  each  lady  in  turn  having  the  privilege  of 
being  taken  in  by  her  royal  host,  who  arranged  the  list 
himself,  and  was  very  particular  that  there  should  be  no 
hitch  as  to  people  finding  their  places  at  once.  An 
equerry  with  a  plan  of  the  dining-table  would  explain  to 
each  man  who  was  to  be  his  partner  and  where  he  was  to 
sit.  The  dinner,  which  never  lasted  more  than  an  hour, 
was  excellent  and  admirably  ordered,  which  is  not  always 
the  case  in  royal  households  where  indiscriminate  profu- 
sion is  often  paramount.  Conversation  was  fairly  ani- 
mated; there  was  none  of  that  stiffness  which  pervaded 
Windsor  and  made  one  fear  the  sound  of  one's  own  voice. 
The  evenings  were  not  prolonged,  for  in  those  days  there 
was  no  Gottlieb's  band  to  listen  to,  as  there  invariably 
is  now,  or  bridge  to  keep  one  up  late.  The  Prince  would 
have  his  rubber  of  whist,  while  the  rest  of  the  company 
sat  about  and  talked  until  the  Princess  made  a  move  to 
go  to  bed,  when  the  ladies  would  troop  off  together,  stop- 
ping to  laugh  and  chatter  in  the  passages,  which  seemed 
to  amuse  the  young  Princesses  more  than  anything  else. 
Sometimes  the  Princess  would  ask  one  into  her  dressing- 
room,  which  was  crowded  with  objects  and  souvenirs  of 
all  kinds.  The  dressing-table  was  so  littered  with  minia- 
tures and  photographs  of  children  and  friends,  besides 
every  conceivable  bibelot,  that  there  was  no  room  for 

193 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

brushes  or  toilet  things.  On  a  perch  in  the  center  of  the 
room  was  an  old  and  somewhat  ferocious  white  parrot, 
which  I  remember  made  disconcerting  pecks  if  you  hap- 
pened to  be  within  his  radius.  At  other  times  the  Prin- 
cess might  surprise  you  by  coming  to  your  room, 
ostensibly  "to  see  if  you  had  everything  you  wanted,"  but 
in  realit}^  to  give  a  few  words  of  advice,  or  to  offer  her 
sympathy  if  she  thought  you  needed  any.  For  without 
people  realizing  it,  few  things  escaped  her  observant 
eyes.  To  those  who  have  the  privilege  of  coming  into 
contact  with  her.  Queen  Alexandra  has  endeared  herself 
by  many  such  kind  acts,  as  well  as  by  her  gentle  and 
tactful  sympathy. 

Among  those  who  were  at  Sandringham  on  that  occa- 
sion was  the  Comtesse  de  Paris,  of  whom  I  saw  a  great 
deal  later,  and  who  was  much  liked,  every  one  finding  her 
tres  bonne  enfant.  She  was  most  unlike  a  Frenchwoman. 
Tall  and  rather  thin,  with  a  pleasant  smile  and  a  desire  to 
please,  she  affected  sporting  clothes  and  distinguished 
herself  with  a  gun.  Personally,  although  I  see  no  harm 
in  a  woman  shooting  game,  I  cannot  say  I  admire  it  as 
an  accomplishment.  The  fact  is,  I  love  life  so  much  that 
the  unnecessary  curtailing  of  any  creature's  existence  is 
more  than  distasteful  to  me.  Not  long  ago,  while  in 
Scotland,  I  saw  a  young  and  charming  woman,  who  was 
surely  not  of  a  bloodthirsty  nature,  kill  two  stags  in  one 
morning.  The  first  she  shot  through  the  heart.  With 
the  aid  of  a  powerful  pair  of  field-glasses,  I  watched  her 
stalk  the  second.  First  she  crawled  on  all  fours  up  a 
long  burn ;  emerging  hot  and  panting,  not  to  say  wet  and 
dirty,  she  then  continued  her  scramble  up  a  steep  hill, 
taking  advantage  of  any  cover  afforded  by  the  ground, 

194 


ISABHI.Lli,  COMTESSE  DE  PARIS 
Mother  of  the  Queen  of  Portugal  and  the  Duchess  D'Aosta 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

or  remaining  in  a  petrified  attitude  if  by  chance  a  hind 
happened  to  look  up.  The  stag,  meanwhile,  quite  obliv- 
ious of  the  danger  lurking  at  hand,  was  apparently  en- 
joying himself.  Surrounded  by  his  hinds,  he  trusted  to 
their  vigilance,  and  lay  in  the  bracken  in  the  brilliant 
sunshine.  I  could  just  see  his  fine  antlered  head,  when 
suddenly,  realizing  that  all  was  not  well,  he  bounded  up, 
making  a  magnificent  picture  as  he  stood  gazing  round, 
his  head  thrown  back  in  defiance.  Crash!  hang!  and  this 
glorious  animal,  became  a  maimed  and  tortured  thing. 
Shot  through  both  forelegs,  he  attempted  to  gallop  down 
the  hill,  his  poor  broken  limbs  tumbling  about  him,  while 
the  affrighted  hinds  stood  riveted  to  the  spot,  looking  at 
their  lord  and  master  with  horror,  not  unmixed  with  cu- 
riosity. I  shall  never  forget  the  sight,  or  that  of  the  dogs 
set  on  him,  and  the  final  scene,  over  which  I  draw  a  veil. 
If  these  things  must  be  done,  how  can  a  woman  bring 
herself  to  do  them  ? 

But  this  digression  has  taken  me  far  from  the  Com- 
tesse  de  Paris.  She  cherished  ambitious  schemes  for  the 
Comte  de  Paris,  and  at  that  time  was  confident  that  he 
would  eventually  become  King  of  France. 

We  had  long  conversations  about  the  Primrose 
League,  which  interested  her  vastly.  So  greatly  did  she 
admire  its  organization  that  she  started  a  league  in 
France  on  more  or  less  the  same  lines.  "La  Ligue  de  la 
Rose,"  as  it  was  called,  had  for  its  symbol  "la  Rose  de 
France,"  and  its  object  was  the  restoration  of  the  mon- 
archy. Unlike  the  Primrose  League,  I  fear  it  did  not 
make  the  stir  or  gain  the  recruits  that  she  hoped.  Never- 
theless, for  some  years  it  flourished  in  a  mild  way.  Her 
Royal  Highness  having  meanwhile  honored  me  with 

197 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

her  friendship,  we  met  frequently,  and  she  constantly 
sought  my  advice  as  to  the  details  of  her  scheme.  An  in- 
spired article  on  the  "Rose  League"  appeared  in  the 
"Primrose  League  Gazette,"  which  gave  her  great  satis- 
faction. 

Sheen  House 

East  Sheen,  Surrey,  25  Juillet,  1888. 

Ma  chere  Lady  Randolph,^ 

Vous  avez  bien  voulu  vous  interesser  un  peu  a  nos  essais  de 
Ligue  en  France,  et  je  me  permets  de  vous  envoyer  les  deux 
circulaires  qui  seront  imprimees  et  distribuees  dans  quelques 
jours,  j'espere  que  vous  voudrez  bien  les  lire  avec  indulgence  et 
les  garder  pour  que  si  plus  tard  nous  arrivons  a  un  beau  resultat 
nous  puissions  en  causer  ensemble.  Vous  savez  que  c'est  vous 
qui  m'avez  donne  I'idee  de  faire  quelque  chose  de  resemblable  en 
France,  c'est  done  a  vous  que  je  pense  tou jours  en  travaillant  a 
cette  grande  entreprise,  et  je  vous  dois  deja  avant  de  commencer 
la  ferme  foi  de  reussir  en  suivant  votre  exemple.  La  Rose 
n'egalera  jamais  la  Primrose;  mais  peut-etre  plus  tard  elles  se 
retrouveront  souvent. 

Si  je  ne  parle  pas  du  Primrose  League  dans  les  Circulaires 
c'est  uniquement  par  .modestie  n'osant  pas  comparer  I'immense 
succes  de  la  premiere  fleur  avec  les  tres  modestes  commencements 
de  la  seconde,  mais  dans  toutes  mes  lettres  particulieres  et  a 
toutes  les  personnes  qui  avec  moi  veulent  bien  travailler  j'en 
parle  pour  leur  donner  a  tous  la  meme  idee;  celle  de  reussir 
comme  vous. 

Pardonnez  moi  mon  ambition  et  en  attendant  que  j'aie  le 
plaisir  de  vous  revoir  croyez  moi  tou  jours 

Votre  bien  afFectionee 

ISABELLE,  COMTESSE  DE  PaRIS. 
1  See  Appendix  for  translation  of  this  and  following  letter. 

198 


2  n        o 

n  -   /  —. 

n  "^ 

■^    "Tit—  rr 

tu  s  as. 
^^^? 

«  2"-   = 

<n  rS 

'^  ^  Q-  "** 

c  2.a< 
=  <>■<•  2L 

-.3-0 

l^lg    *" 

^,  re  -o  g      _ 

=  -•-  r  u 


p  o  5-2. 

•«-  ?^5 

c  ^^  -• 

^    M    (/I    ^ 

n  -"    • 

—  ra  -(  O 
"  I'  -  3 

i/i  s  S 

?3  ft  n 
r*  o  li!  ''^ 

•       -"  S*  Q. 

2  n  «  - 
5  =■_•' 

H  (/I  C  f^ 
°  n  S  <» 

r^io  o 
o  s;  — "^ 

•o  re  -t"  DJ 

-  3   <  CL 
O         =^(/l 

asg-s. 

a  re       "t 

ft  -  2.n 
.  3  w  rt 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Sheen  House 

East  Sheen,  Surrey,  7  Oct.  1888. 
Ma  chere  Lady  Randolph, 

Je  ne  sais  pas  si  vous  etes  a  Londres  mais  je  vous  ecris  un 
petit  mot  pour  vous  dire  que  j'ai  re^u  hier  soir  un  numero  du 
Primrose  League  Gazette  contenant  un  article  des  plus  aimables 
sur  La  Rose  Ligue ;  je  viens  vous  remercier  et  de  I'envoi  et  de 
I'article,  car  je  suis  bien  sure  que  vous  y  etes  pour  une  bien 
grande  part;  si  je  me  suis  trompee  je  vous  prie  de  transmettre 
mes  remerciements  a  I'auteur.  La  Primrose  League  est  vraiment 
bien  aimable  en  faisant  si  bon  accueil  a  sa  soeur  cadette  La  Rose 
Ligue. 

Je  vous  ai  envoye  avant  hier  un  numero  du  Soleil  pour  que 
vous  puissiez  voir  en  entier  notre  nouveau  papier,  vous  y  avez  sans 
doute  trouve  des  phrases  que  vous  connaissiez  et  j'espere  que 
vous  m'approuverez,  j'ai  je  crois  suivi  vos  conseils.  Je  re9ois 
de  tous  cotes  de  tres  bon  rapports,  il  parait  que  la  Rose  marche 
a  merveille,  j'espere  que  ce  beau  zele  durera  longtemps,  et  c'est 
a  vous  la  premiere  que  nous  devrons  notre  succes. 

J'espere  avoir  bientot  le  plaisir  de  vous  revoir,  et  en  attendant 
je  vous  prie  de  me  croire 

Votre  bien  afFectionee 

Isabelle,  Comtesse  de  Paris. 

It  is  sad  to  think  that  so  much  energy  and  zeal  came 
to  nought.  The  "Ligue,"  as  well  as  its  object,  is  a 
thing  of  the  past.  But  in  France  political  movements 
are  not  furthered  by  the  help  of  women:  the  existing 
form  of  government  and  the  ridicule  attached  to  their 
public  appearance  preclude  them  from  airing  their  views 
or  promoting  a  cause  on  a  platform.  Besides,  the 
majority  of  Frenchwomen  are  too  much  occupied  with 

201 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

the  domestic  affairs  of  their  homes  or  with  business  mat- 
ters to  give  much  attention  to  anything  outside.  How 
different  from  the  part  Englishwomen  play  in  politics, 
and  particularly  in  London  society,  where  they  are  more 
important  agents  than  in  any  other  capital  of  the  world ! 
This  is  owing  to  the  happy  blending  of  matters  social 
and  political  which  an  established  order  of  things  has  fos- 
tered for  centuries. 

Among  the  people  at  Sandringham  were  Lord  and 
Lady  Salisbury.  I  did  not  know  Lady  Salisbury  well, 
but  she  impressed  me  as  being  a  woman  of  great  strength 
of  character  and  full  of  common  sense.  One  could  not 
help  liking  her,  notwithstanding  a  rather  brusque  man- 
ner. I  fancy  she  detested  aff'ectations  of  any  kind,  and 
her  masterly  mind  must  have  disdained  the  ordinary 
society  twaddle  to  which  she  was  often  called  upon  to 
listen.  I  remember  a  heated  argument  on  the  duties 
incumbent  on  a  politician's  wife,  which,  according  to 
her,  were  rather  arduous,  involving  the  necessity  of 
making  a  study  of  the  various  political  problems  of  the 
day.  I  confess  I  felt  no  desire  to  tackle  either  the  Plan 
of  Campaign  or  the  Budget,  which  were  the  two  promi- 
nent questions  of  the  moment,  and  thought  I  could  help 
Randolph  in  other  ways. 

In  looking  at  the  old  photograph  of  the  party,  I  see 
that  Lord  Salisbury  and  Randolph  are  standing  side  by 
side.  How  little  did  I  or  any  one  else  there  realize  the 
great  and  irretrievable  breach  which  was  to  come  so  soon 
and  so  suddenly  between  these  two!  In  the  midst  of 
delightful  people,  occupations,  and  amusements,  I  was 
quite  happy  and  far  from  imagining  that  the  political 
horizon  was  not  clear. 

202 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

The  celebration  of  Queen  Victoria's  Jubilee  (1887) 
was  the  occasion  of  every  sort  of  festivity.  London  was 
crowded  to  its  utmost,  and  people  came  from  all  parts  of 
the  world  to  see  the  pageant  and  the  crowning  ceremony 
in  Westminster  Abbey.  The  day  was  blessed  with  the 
proverbial  "Queen's  weather."  Rarely  had  I  seen  Lon- 
don look  so  festive— blue  sky  and  bright  sunshine,  flags 
everywhere,  and  an  excited  yet  patient  crowd  filling  the 
thoroughfares  and  the  route  of  the  procession.  As  the  wife 
of  an  ex-Cabinet  Minister,  I  was  given  a  good  place  in 
the  Abbey,  The  magnificent  sight  impressed  me  greatly. 
Gorgeous  uniforms  and  beautiful  dresses  were  enhanced 
by  the  "dim  religious  light,"  pierced  here  and  there  by 
the  rays  of  the  summer  sun  as  it  streamed  through  the 
ancient  stained-glass  windows.  The  Queen,  represent- 
ing the  glory  and  continuity  of  England's  history,  sat 
alone  in  the  middle  of  the  great  nave,  a  small,  pathetic 
figure  surrounded  by  that  vast  assembly,  whose  gaze  was 
riveted  upon  her.  A  wave  of  emotion  passed  over  it  as 
silent  tears  were  seen  to  be  dropping  one  by  one  upon  the 
Queen's  folded  hands.  Perhaps  the  fact  that  the  Te 
Deum  which  was  being  played  had  been  composed  by  the 
Prince  Consort  added  yet  another  note  of  sadness  to  the 
burden  of  her  memories. 

Once  again  I  had  occasion  to  see  Queen  Victoria  at  a 
great  function.  This  was  at  the  opening  of  the  Imperial 
Institute.  The  Queen,  with  a  look  of  intense  anxiety  on 
her  face,  sat  on  a  throne  in  the  middle  of  the  huge  hall, 
which  was  filled  to  overflowing.  She  had  to  make  a 
speech,  which  evidently  was  a  great  ordeal ;  but  when  she 
did  so,  her  voice,  soft  and  gentle  as  it  was,  never  wavered 
for  a  moment,  and  every  word  could  be  heard  by  all. 

203 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

Many  were  the  public  functions  of  all  kinds  to  which 
we  were  bidden  that  year  in  honor  of  the  Queen's  Jubi- 
lee. Among  them  was  an  invitation  from  the  White 
Star  Company  to  cruise  for  a  few  daj'^s  on  board  one  of 
their  ships,  and  to  see  the  Naval  Review,  which  was  to 
take  place  in  the  Solent.  In  the  middle  of  the  London 
season,  suffering  from  the  heat  and  glare  of  a  big  city  in 
the  month  of  June,  the  prospect  was  a  delightful  one. 
The  trip  proved  most  enjoyable.  The  Duchess  of  Man- 
chester (since  Duchess  of  Devonshire),  Mr.  Chamber- 
lain, Lord  Hartington,  and  a  host  of  well-known  and 
agreeable  people,  were  on  board.  Great  were  the  politi- 
cal f oregatherings ;  arguments  and  discussions  never 
ceased.  Although  Mr.  Chamberlain  had  left  Gladstone 
and  the  Home -Rule  Party,  he  was  not  yet  prepared  to 
join  the  Conservatives,  notwithstanding  the  overtures 
made  to  him  by  Lord  Salisbury.  Tired  of  inactivity,  he 
was  revolving  at  that  time,  in  conjunction  with  Ran- 
dolph, a  scheme  for  a  new  party  which  was  to  be  called 
the  National  Party,  and  both  were  anxious  that  Lord 
Hartington  should  join  it.  The  moment  was  thought 
propitious,  and  it  was  settled  that  Mr.  Chamberlain 
should  speak  to  Lord  Hartington.  That  afternoon  I 
was  sitting  on  the  deck  with  the  latter  when  Mr.  Cham- 
berlain joined  us.  Drawing  up  a  chair,  he  suddenly 
plunged  into  the  matter  without  preliminaries  and 
with  his  usual  directness.  Lord  Hartington,  taken  au 
depourvu,  looked  uncomfortable  and  answered  very 
shortly.  Mr.  Chamberlain,  full  of  his  scheme,  pressed 
the  points  home,  taking  no  notice  of  the  monosyllables  he 
got  in  answer.  But  after  a  time  the  frozen  attitude  of 
Lord  Hartington  began  to  take  effect,  and  the  conversa- 

204 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

tion  languished  and  died.  I  believe  the  subject  was 
never  reopened.  In  any  case,  nothing  came  of  it.  I 
imagine  that  Lord  Hartington  was  a  difficult  person  to 
persuade  against  his  will  and  most  uncompromisingly 
definite  in  his  likes  and  dislikes.  I  have  always  thought 
that  there  existed  a  gulf  between  him  and  Mr.  Chamber- 
lain that  no  political  expediency  could  really  bridge. 
But  of  course  this  is  only  my  own  opinion. 

I  have  heard  Randolph  say  that  in  most  political  ques- 
tions he  considered  Lord  Hartington's  judgment  infal- 
lible. He  was  slow,  but  sure.  If  an  important  paper, 
requiring  an  early  answer,  was  sent  to  him  to  read,  it 
might  be  pigeonholed  for  weeks.  But  when  he  did  read 
it,  he  would  at  once  discover  any  flaw  or  weakness,  and 
his  verdict  generally  carried  the  day.  In  private  life  no 
one  was  pleasanter  or  easier  to  get  on  with  than  the  late 
Duke  of  Devonshire.  His  rather  stern  countenance  be- 
lied a  mirth-loving  soul,  and  he  thoroughly  appreciated 
a  joke. 

He  was  rather  careless  about  his  clothes  and  once  on 
his  birthday  his  friends,  as  a  joke,  sent  him  every  con- 
ceivable sort  of  head-gear  from  the  ceremonious  silk  hat 
to  the  flannel  cricketing  cap.  My  contribution,  I  remem- 
ber, was  a  pot  hat.  For  hours  they  poured  in;  I  believe 
he  received  over  fifty.  In  old  days  before  he  succeeded 
to  the  dukedom  we  used  to  stay  with  him  at  Hard  wick 
Hall  for  shooting-parties.  It  was  a  wonderful  place, 
full  of  thrilling  historical  associations.  I  never  tired  of 
hearing  about  them,  or  of  wandering  through  the  beauti- 
ful rooms  filled  with  memories  of  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots, 
most  ill-fated  of  Queens,  and  of  her  gaoler  the  great 
"Bess  of  Hardwick"  (Countess  of  Shrewsbury),  ances- 

^^    '  205 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

tress  of  our  host.  During  our  visit  Randolph  slept  in 
"Queen  Mary's  Bedroom"  which  was  of  small  dimen- 
sions, and  had  a  window  by  the  side  of  the  door  so  that 
the  unfortunate  occupant  could  be  spied  upon  at  all 
times  of  the  day  or  night.  Two  centuries  later  Marie 
Antoinette  was  put  to  the  same  indignity  in  the  Concier- 
gerie.  Bess  of  Hardwick,  when  she  pulled  down  the  old 
Hall  to  build  the  present  house  (begun  1576,  finished 
1599)  evidently  intended  this  room  for  her  prisoner,  but 
Queen  Mary  did  not  live  to  occupy  it.  Beheaded  in 
1586,  all  her  belongings  were  subsequently  removed  to 
it,  including  the  original  bed-hangings  and  coverlet 
worked  by  herself.  Hence  the  name  given  to  this  room 
by  tradition.  My  imagination  ran  riot  as  I  gazed  upon 
the  screens  and  cushions  worked  by  the  Queen  during 
the  long  years  of  her  captivity.  Who  knows?  On 
these  very  canvases  her  tears  may  have  been  as  numerous 
as  were  the  stitches  with  which  she  tried  to  find  solace. 

Close  by  was  the  Long  Gallery  which  was  supposed  to 
be  haunted  by  the  restless  spirit  of  the  redoubtable  Bess, 
not  to  speak  of  Queen  Mary  and  Queen  Elizabeth. 
There  are  some  lines  written  apropos  of  this  Gallery  by 
the  beautiful  and  celebrated  Georgiana,  Duchess  of 
Devonshire,  who  spent  long  periods  after  her  marriage 
at  Chatsworth  and  Hardwick,  whence  she  writes  in 
French  to  her  mother.  Countess  Spencer: 

Sept.  3,  1777. 
"We  set  out  for  Hardwicke  this  morning.  .  .  .  Hardwicke 
looked  extremely  well.  We  walk'd  all  about  the  house,  &  paid 
our  compliments  to  Queen  Mary  &  Queen  Elizabeth.  I  never 
look  at  the  melancholy  picture  of  Mary  which  was  drawn  in  the 
10th  year  of  her  imprisonment,  and  which  has  a  countenance 

206 


THE    MARIHIS   OI-'    IIARTINGTON,    Till-:  LATI{    DIKE   Ol-'   DliVUNSHIRE 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

that  looks  worn  by  misfortune  without  pitying  to  the  greatest 
degree  the  misery  she  must  have  Kv'd  in  —  for  even  the  pomp  she 
was  treated  with,  those  melancholy  hangings  and  coffin  like 
beds — must  have  added  to  the  tristesse  of  her  situation".   .  . 

And  again : 

(Wednesday,  the  14th  of  Feb.  1780.) 

".   .   .   Sachant  comme  vous  le  faites  notre  solitude  ici,  que  nous 

avons  pour  toute  societe,  les  arbres  du  Pare,  et  Les  portraits  de 

La  Gallerie  et  Les  Ombres  des  bonnes  gens  qui  y  sont  peints, 
.  .  .  , 

ici  .   .   , 

Ou  nous  avons  pour  compagnie 
L'Ombre  de  La  Reine  Marie, 
Qui  eut  un  nombre  etonnant 
De  maux,  de  soucis  et  d'amants. 
Ou  bien  par  sa  bonte  extreme 
La  Grande  Elisabeth  meme 
Sort  quelques  fois  du  Canevas 
Pour  demander  comment  I'on  va, 
(Celle  qui  regnant  sur  la  terre 
De  sa  Virginite  fut  fiere 
Et  si  I'on  croit  en  ces  temps-la 
A  tort  la  Reine  s'en  piqua)." 

I  remember  having  a  large,  tapestried  room  the  door 
of  which  had  a  keyhole  big  enough  to  put  one's  hand 
through,  and  which  gave  on  to  the  Presence  Chamber. 
The  first  night  I  thought  the  arras  seemed  to  move 
about,  so  arming  myself  with  a  poker,  I  thrust  it  here 
and  there,  when  to  my  dismay  I  felt  the  tapestry  give, 
and  on  looking  behind,  saw  a  small,  winding  stone  stair- 
case disappearing  into  unkno^Mi  depths.  This  made  me 
so  nervous  that  I  sat  shivering  for  hours  in  an  arm-chair, 

209 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

surrounded  by  all  the  candles  I  could  find,  until  I  fell 
asleep  from  sheer  fatigue.  It  was  with  quite  an  emotion 
that  I  one  day  put  on  a  puce  satin  cloak  that  had  be- 
longed to  Bess  of  Hardwick,  hoping  perhaps  that  it 
might  have  the  virtues  of  Elijah's  mantle. 

Lord  Hartington,  in  showing  us  some  of  the  pictures, 
came  across  a  portrait  of  one  of  the  Dukes  of  Devonshire 
of  whom  he  told  rather  an  amusing  story.  The  agent 
came  to  the  Duke,  complaining  that  his  son,  the  Lord 
Hartington  of  the  day,  was  spending  enormous  sums  of 
money.  "Well,"  said  the  Duke,  "is  n't  there  plenty  of 
it?" 

Sir  Henry  Wolff,  Randolph,  and  I  were  once  staying 
at  Buxton,  and  we  went  over  as  tourists  to  visit  Chats- 
worth.  When  I  told  Lord  Hartington  that  I  had  been 
there,  and  was  much  impressed  with  the  grandeur  and 
beauty  of  the  place,  all  he  said  was,  "Did  you  break  any- 
thing?" 

Ten  years  later  another  naval  review  was  held  to  cele- 
brate the  Diamond  Jubilee,  at  which  I  was  also  present, 
having  again  accepted  an  invitation  to  spend  three  days 
on  board  the  Teutonic,  H.M.  armed  cruiser  for  the 
nonce.  Among  the  guests  I  found  Mr.  John  Morley, 
Lord  and  Lady  Charles  Beresford,  Sir  John  and  Lady 
Lister  Kaye,  Lord  and  Lady  Lonsdale,  and  many  other 
friends.  By  the  irony  of  fate  the  captain  had  particu- 
larly picked  out  Sir  John  Gorst  to  sit  next  to  me  at 
dinner.  We  had  not  spoken  for  several  years,  but  of 
course  I  ignored  the  estrangement. 

Everything  on  this  occasion  was  wonderfully  well 
done,  and  we  had  many  privileges  for  seeing  all  there 
was  to  be  seen.    The  fleet  in  array  made  a  splendid  show, 

210 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

and  at  night  the  harsh  ugly  lines  and  grim  reahties  of 
the  ironclads  disappeared  in  the  glare  of  thousands  of 
electric  lights,  which  made  a  surprisingly  brilliant  spec- 
tacle. The  day  of  the  review  Lord  Lonsdale  interested 
and  amused  the  fleet  in  general  and  the  Teutonic  in  par- 
ticular by  dashing  about  in  a  turbine  which  shot  in  and 
out  among  the  battle-ships  at  great  speed.  A  turbine 
was  a  great  novelty  at  that  time  and  we  were  all  greatly 
excited  at  seeing  it. 

In  this  year  (1887),  Randolph,  having  more  leisure 
since  he  was  out  of  office,  became  keener  about  the 
turf.  We  had  both  of  us  often  attended  race-meetings, 
particularly  Newmarket,  but  till  then  he  had  not  owned 
any  race-horses.  In  partnership  with  Lord  Dunraven, 
he  now  bought  a  number  of  horses,  which  were  trained 
by  R.  Sherwood.  For  some  years  the  stable  was  very 
successful.  We  took  a  small  house  (Bemstead  Manor) 
on  the  Chieveley  estate,  about  three  miles  from  the  town 
of  Newmarket,  where  I  passed  many  a  pleasant  week. 
We  would  ride  out  in  the  early  morning  from  six  to 
seven  to  see  the  horses  do  their  gallops.  It  was  a  most 
healthy  and  invigorating  life,  and  I  became  greatly  in- 
terested, spending  hours  with  Randolph  at  Sherwood's, 
when  he  and  the  trainer  would  study  the  racing  calendar 
and  decide  upon  the  entries  for  the  horses. 

Newmarket  has  become  very  different  from  what  it 
was  in  the  early  eighties,  when  I  first  went  there.  Then 
only  the  old  stands  existed,  some  of  which  date  back 
quite  two  hundred  years.  The  ladies  who  came  were 
habitues,  and  did  not  muster  a  dozen  at  the  outside. 
Among  them  were  Caroline  Duchess  of  Montrose,  who 
was  a  large  owner  of  horses ;  the  Duchess  of  Manchester 

211 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

(now  Duchess  of  Devonshire)  ;  and  Lady  Cardigan, 
who  would  drive  up  in  an  old-fashioned,  yellow  tilbury, 
in  which  she  sat  all  day.  Lady  Bradford  and  Lady 
Cadogan  were  always  there;  as  were  Lady  Castlereagh 
(now  Lady  Londonderry),  Lady  Gerard,  and  a  few 
others.  It  was  the  fashion  to  ride,  those  who  did  not 
appearing  in  ordinary  country  clothes.  Nowadays  vel- 
vets and  feathers  are  worn  by  the  mob  which  throngs  the 
stands,  many  not  knowing  a  horse  from  a  cow,  but  com- 
ing because  it  is  the  fashion.  I  have  heard  amusing  tales 
of  the  ignorance  displayed  on  these  occasions.  One 
lady  was  overheard  declaring  that  as  she  had  not  been  to 
Newmarket  for  years,  she  had  quite  "forgotten  the 
names  of  the  horses,"  and  another,  that  some  one  had 
told  her  the  name  of  "the  yearling  which  was  going  to 
win  the  Derby  at  the  next  Newmarket  meeting."  A 
charming  duchess,  who  cares  only  to  see  her  friends  at 
the  races,  generally  brings  her  needlework,  and  takes  no 
heed  of  the  strenuous  efforts  of  the  horses  and  jockeys  as 
they  race  past  her. 

The  shining  light  of  our  stable  was  the  "Abbesse  de 
Jouarre,"  for  which  Randolph  gave  £300  at  the  Don- 
caster  sales,  eventually  selling  her  for  £7000.  I  had 
been  reading  "L'Abbesse  de  Jouarre,"  written  by  Renan 
in  order,  so  it  is  said,  to  disprove  the  assertions  of  his 
friends  that  he  could  not  write  something  imaginative. 
I  suggested  the  name  as  a  fitting  one  for  the  beautiful 
black  mare,  which  was  by  "Trappist"  out  of  "Festive." 
She  was  a  gallant  little  thing,  with  a  heart  bigger  than 
her  body,  and  her  size  made  the  public  so  sceptical  that 
she  invariably  started  at  long  odds.  When  she  won  the 
Oaks  those  who  backed  her  got  20  to  1.    Neither  Ran- 

212 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

dolph  nor  I  witnessed  her  triumph.  He  was  fishing  in 
Norway,  and  I  was  with  some  friends  who  had  a  house 
on  the  Thames.  On  that  day  we  happened  to  reach 
Boulter's  Lock  shortly  after  the  hour  of  the  race.  Asking 
the  lock-keeper  which  horse  had  won  the  big  race,  he 
replied,  to  my  great  delight  and  amusement,  "The  Ab- 
cess  on  the  Jaw."  The  "Abbesse,"  after  winning  many 
races  and  producing  numerous  progeny,  died  in  the 
breeding  stables  at  Welbeck.  It  was  with  great  satis- 
faction that  I  witnessed  her  grandson  "Land  League" 
win  the  Cambridgeshire  in  1907. 


213 


CHAPTER  X 


RUSSIA 


DURING  the  winter  of  1881  we  went  to  Russia, 
where  we  spent  a  most  interesting  and  dehght- 
ful  month.  The  Marquis  de  Breteuil,  whose 
ancestor  had  been  French  Ambassador  to  the  court  of 
the  Great  Catherine,  and  Mr.  Trafford  made  up  our 
party.  Everything  was  new  and  attractive  to  us.  The 
people  were  charming  and  hospitable,  and  seemed  full  of 
bonhomie,  and  we  saw  no  signs  of  that  grinding  despot- 
ism and  tyranny  which  is  supposed  to  be  synonymous 
with  Russian  life.  My  first  impression  of  the  scenery 
was  one  of  disappointment,  the  country  between  Berlin 
and  St.  Petersburg,  or  rather  the  part  beyond  the  Rus- 
sian frontier,  being  flat  and  uninteresting.  The  waste 
and  dreary  expanse,  when  covered  with  snow,  inspires  a 
feeling  of  deep  melancholy.  To  live  for  months  every 
year  buried  in  that  cold,  monotonous  silence  is  quite 
enough,  I  should  imagine,  to  account  for  the  vein  of  sad- 
ness which  seems  to  be  the  basis  of  the  Russian  character, 
and  which  betrays  itself  in  all  Russian  music  and  paint- 
ing. As  our  snow-laden  train  crawled  into  the  station  in 
St.  Petersburg,  and  we  stepped  out  joyfully  and 
stretched  our  cramped  and  tired  limbs,  the  broad  streets, 
full  of  life  and  animation,  and  as  bright  as  day  with 

214 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

electricity,  seemed  a  delightful  contrast.  I  do  not  know 
what  I  expected  to  see,  but  the  city  disappointed  me  with 
its  modern  appearance.  Looking  at  the  houses  of  rather 
mean  exterior,  with  their  small  double  windows  and  tiny 
doors,  little  did  I  dream  of  the  splendor  within.  Space, 
however,  seemed  to  be  immaterial,  and  this  struck  me  the 
more  forcibly,  accustomed  as  I  was  to  London,  with  its 
narrow  streets  and  considered  inches. 

The  French  system  of  apartments  is  common  in  St. 
Petersburg,  although  not  so  general  as  in  Paris;  but 
where  it  exists,  the  entrance  and  staircases  are  much 
more  decorated  and  cared  for  than  is  usual  where  several 
families  live  under  the  same  roof,  and  this  gives  the 
appearance  of  a  private  dwelling.  In  the  great  houses  I 
was  struck  by  the  very  large  number  of  servants,  and 
was  told  that  in  the  cases  of  some  rich  noblemen  whole 
families  of  useless  dependents — mujiks,  with  their  wives 
and  children — were  installed  in  the  lower  regions.  If 
this  was  the  case  in  town,  what  must  it  have  been  in  the 
country?  Such  generosity,  combined  with  the  utter  ab- 
sence of  real  supervision  in  the  financial  management  of 
the  establishment,  must  have  been  a  heavy  tax  on  the 
largest  fortune,  and  it  is  not  surprising  that  the  Russian 
nobility  of  to-day,  with  the  added  burden  of  the  late  war 
and  the  internal  dissension  of  their  unhappy  country,  are 
in  an  impoverished  state. 

However,  we  saw  nothing  of  this,  and  all  the  enter- 
tainnients  and  functions  to  which  we  went,  whether 
private  or  public,  were  extremely  well  done.  Russians 
dearly  love  light,  and  on  these  occasions  made  their 
houses  as  bright  as  day,  with  a  profusion  of  candles  as 
well  as  electric  light.    Masses  of  flowers,  notwithstand- 

215 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

ing  their  rarity  in  such  a  rigorous  climate,  decorated 
every  available  place,  and  the  staircases  were  lined  with 
footmen  in  gorgeous  liveries.  Although  many  of  the 
houses  were  very  smartly  furnished  with  all  that  money 
could  buy  and  modern  art  suggest,  they  struck  me  as 
lacking  in  the  real  refinement  and  true  artistic  taste  that 
one  sees  in  Paris ;  but  the  French  are  born  connoisseurs, 
and  think  of  little  else  than  artistic  comfort. 

In  those  days  the  average  Russian  drawing-room  was 
superior  to  the  ordinary  English  one.  If  there  was  a 
lack  of  imagination,  there  was  also  an  absence  of  tawdri- 
ness,  which  contrasted  favorably  with  the  overcrowded 
London  room,  where,  at  that  time,  the  esthetic  and  Jap- 
anese craze  reigned  supreme — where  evenly  balanced 
structures  of  paper  fans.  Liberty  silks,  and  photographs 
were  thought  decorative,  not  to  speak  of  labyrinths  of 
tiny  tables,  chairs,  and  screens.  I  was  prepared  to  suffer 
a  great  deal  from  the  cold,  but  found,  as  in  most  North- 
ern countries,  that  the  houses  were  heated  to  suffocation, 
and  the  windows  were  rarely  opened,  a  small  ventilator 
being  thought  quite  sufficient.  Russians  assert  that  all 
foreigners  bring  so  much  caloric  with  them  that  they  do 
not  feel  the  cold  at  first.  This  may  be  so,  but  there  is  no 
doubt  that  they  feel  the  want  of  air  and  the  stuffiness  of 
the  rooms,  which  dries  up  the  skin  and  takes  away  the 
appetite. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  thoroughly  enjoyed  the  outdoor 
life  of  sleighing  and  skating.  Comfortably  seated  in  a 
sleigh,  behind  a  good,  fat  coachman  to  keep  the  wind  off, 
I  never  wearied  of  driving  about.  The  rapidity  with 
which  one  dashes  noiselessly  along  is  most  exhilarating, 
notwithstanding  a  biting  wind  or  blinding  snow.     The 

216 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

ordinary  Russian  sleigh,  smaller  than  the  American  cut- 
ter, barely  holds  two,  but  the  thick  fur  rug,  even  in  a 
common  droshky,  or  cab,  is  so  well  fastened  down  that  it 
helps  to  keep  one  from  falling  out,  besides  protecting 
from  the  cold.  The  troikas,  wide  sleighs  with  three 
horses,  of  which  the  middle  one  trots  while  the  other  two 
gallop,  have  become  rather  rare,  and  are  used  princi- 
pally for  traveling  or  for  expeditions  in  the  country. 
Nothing  is  prettier  than  a  really  smart  sleigh  with  two 
horses,  one  trotting  and  the  other  galloping,  covered  with 
a  large  net  of  dark  blue  cord  fastened  to  the  front  of  the 
sleigh,  to  keep  the  snow  from  being  kicked  into  the  face 
of  the  occupant.  The  coachman,  with  his  fur-lined  coat 
gathered  in  at  the  waist,  and  his  bright  red  or  blue  octag- 
onal cap  with  gold  braid,  drives  with  his  arms  extended 
in  order  to  preserve  his  circulation.  I  was  much  im- 
pressed with  the  fact  that  the  coachmen  hardly  ever 
seemed  to  use  their  short,  thick  whips,  which  they  kept 
carefully  hidden.  A  footman  stood  on  a  small  step  be- 
hind, his  tall  hat  and  ordinary  great  coat  looking  a  little 
incongruous,  I  confess,  and  marring  an  otherwise  pic- 
turesque sight.  The  horses  are  so  beautifully  broken 
that  a  word  will  stop  them.  The  whole  time  I  was  in 
Russia  I  never  saw  a  horse  ill-used.  No  need  for  a  "So- 
ciety for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Animals"  there. 
The  Isvoshnik  who  owns  his  cab-horse  looks  upon  him  as 
his  friend,  and  very  often  shares  the  animal's  stall  at 
night. 

Among  the  many  acquaintances  we  made  were  ]M. 
and  Mme.  Polovstow,  who  showed  us  a  great  deal  of 
hospitality.  He  was  President  of  the  Council,  a  very 
important  post,  and  was  high  in  the  favor  of  the  Czar. 

217 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

His  early  history  was  rather  romantic.  As  private  sec- 
retary to  the  milHonaire  SteigHtz,  Polovstow  won  the 
affections  and  the  hand  of  his  adopted  daughter,  to 
whom  SteigHtz  left  the  whole  of  his  fortune. 

Among  many  institutions  founded  by  her  adopted 
father,  Mme.  Polovstow  took  us  to  see  the  "Steiglitz 
School  of  Art,"  which  was  kept  up  at  her  own  expense. 
I  was  much  interested  to  find  in  the  museum  a  certain 
Italian  cabinet  which  the  late  Duke  of  Marlborough  had 
sold  from  Blenheim,  and  the  destination  of  which  had 
always  been  a  mystery. 

One  night  we  went  to  the  opera  with  them  to  hear  "La 
vie  pour  le  Czar"  by  Glinka,  charming  music,  imprint 
with  all  the  national  characteristics  of  sadness  and  wild, 
boisterous  gaiety;  but  the  orchestration  however  seemed 
rather  feeble.  All  the  ladies  wore  high  dresses,  which  took 
away  from  the  brilliant  appearance  one  is.  accustomed  to 
in  other  opera-houses.  Sometimes  the  performance  was 
entirely  ballet— no  singing— and  one  night  I  had  the  op- 
portunity of  seeing  the  famous  dancer  Zucchi,  in  "Es- 
meralda." She  was  then  in  her  prime,  and  she  certainly 
was  a  marvelous  dancer  of  the  old  school. 

After  the  opera,  enveloped  in  great  fur  coats  and  caps, 
we  drove  in  troikas  to  the  islands  in  the  Neva,  where  the 
Polovstows  had  a  charming  pavilion.  We  were  ushered 
into  a  large  conservatory  brilliantly  lighted  and  full  of 
orchids  and  rare  flowers,  a  dazzling  and  wonderful  con- 
trast to  the  snow-clad  scenery  outside,  on  which  "the  cold, 
round  moon  shone  deeply  down,"  turning  everything  to 
silver.  Hidden  by  palms,  a  band  of  Tziganes  was  play- 
ing inspiriting  melodies,  while  in  the  dining-room  an 
excellent  supper  wsls  served  on  genuine  Louis  XV  plate. 

218 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

We  did  not  get  back  to  our  hotel  until  the  small  hours  of 
the  morning.  Russians,  I  found  to  my  cost,  love  late 
hours  and  seem  never  to  go  to  bed,  the  evening  generally 
beginning  for  them  at  midnight. 

On  one  occasion  I  was  taken  for  a  spin  on  the  Neva 
with  a  fast  trotter,  which  I  did  not  enjoy  quite  so  much, 
owing  to  the  end  of  my  nose  being  nearly  frozen.  When 
we  returned,  my  host  rushed  up  to  me  and  rubbed  it  vio- 
lently with  snow,  as  it  looked  ominously  white.  So  long 
as  your  nose  keeps  a  glorious  red,  you  are  safe. 

While  in  St.  Petersburg  I  was  able  to  indulge  to  my 
heart's  content  in  my  favorite  pastime  of  skating,  which 
I  did  on  the  lake  of  the  Palais  de  la  Tauride,  a  royal 
palace  where  Russian  society  congregated.  But  great 
was  my  disappointment  to  find  that  the  Russians  did  not 
care  for  figure-skating,  and,  in  fact,  did  not  skate  well. 
I  was  told  that  had  it  not  been  for  the  Czarina  (]\Iarie) , 
who  was  an  adept  in  the  art,  people  would  not  have 
appreciated  skating  at  all.  As  it  was,  they  much  pre- 
ferred tobogganing  down  the  ice-hills,  half  a  dozen  or 
more  persons  in  a  sleigh.  It  was  in  one  of  these  that  I 
had  my  first  experience  of  this  sport,  and  was  duly 
"blooded"  (if  one  may  call  it  so)  by  being  placed  in  the 
front  seat  of  the  sleigh  and  shot  into  a  bank  of  snow. 
The  ice-hills,  which  are  built  on  the  lake,  are  merely 
blocks  of  ice  placed  on  a  wooden  path  raised  to  a  plat- 
form at  a  steep  angle,  which  you  ascend  by  a  stair- 
case. To  go  down  one  of  these  hills  on  skates  for  the 
first  time  gives  the  same  delightful  feeling  of  satisfaction 
and  pleasure  which  in  hunting  is  experienced  in  getting 
over  a  big  fence,  leaving  the  field  a  bit  behind.  It  is  not 
an  easy  matter,  as  the  pace  is  terrific,  and  coming  to  the 

219 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

level  again  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  makes  it  difficult  to 
keep  one's  feet;  but  if  successful  one  shoots  across  the 
whole  lake.  Many  were  the  accidents,  and  I  saw  one 
poor  lady  break  her  arm. 

Sir  Robert  Morier,  the  British  Ambassador,  was  away 
when  we  first  arrived,  but  later  he  and  his  family  showed 
us  great  kindness  and  hospitality.  Meanwhile  we  were 
bidden  to  Gatchina  to  have  an  audience  with  the  Czar 
and  the  Czarina.  Gatchina,  about  an  hour  by  train  from 
St.  Petersburg,  is  the  Windsor  of  Russia.  It  is  a  curious 
mixture  of  splendor  and  unpretentiousness,  and  is  ap- 
proached from  the  station  through  a  series  of  small  parks, 
which  must  be  lovely  in  summer.  I  was  surprised  to  see 
so  few  sentries :  to  all  appearances  the  Czar  was  not  more 
guarded  than  the  King  at  Windsor.  The  entrance  to 
Gatchina  on  the  public  road  had  only  one  sentry. 

The  palace  has  no  great  architectural  merits,  but  its 
six  hundred  rooms  and  endless  corridors  were  filled  with 
priceless  Oriental  china,  and  the  walls  were  adorned  with 
tapestries  and  treasures  of  art.  Coureurs  in  black-and- 
orange  liveries,  their  caps  embellished  by  tossing  black, 
white,  and  orange  feathers,  gave  a  slightly  barbaric  ap- 
pearance to  the  scene,  which  was  added  to  by  the  mass  of 
bowing  attendants,  and  by  two  Nubians  dressed  in  white, 
with  turbans  and  scimitars,  standing  outside  the  Czarina's 
audience  chamber. 

While  waiting  to  be  received,  we  were  shown  into  an 
apartment  which  savored  of  the  early  Victorian  style, 
with  paintings  of  mediocre  quality.  Here  a  dejeuner 
was  served,  and  afterward  we  went  to  our  respective 
audiences.  Randolph  stayed  quite  an  hour  with  the 
Czar,  who  discussed  all  the  political  questions  of  the  day. 

220 


m 

7i 


> 


?3 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

The  Czarina,  whom  I  had  had  the  honor  of  knowing  as 
Czarevna  at  Cowes  some  years  before,  was  most  gracious 
and  charming,  reminding  me  of  her  sister.  Queen  Alex- 
andjfa,  although  not  so  beautiful.  She  asked  endless 
questions  about  England  and  all  that  was  going  on 
politically  and  socially,  and  finally,  having  arrived  ''au 
bout  de  notre  Latin"  and  Randolph  not  appearing,  I 
was  taken  to  see  the  palace. 

Among  many  rooms,  I  remember  a  large  hall  worthy 
of  an  old  English  country-house,  full  of  comfortable 
arm-chairs  and  writing-tables,  games,  and  toys.  I  even 
spied  a  swing.  In  that  room  their  Majesties  often  dined, 
I  was  told,  even  when  they  had  guests,  and  after  dinner 
the  table  would  be  removed,  and  they  would  spend  the 
remainder  of  the  evening  there.  This  seemed  strange  to 
me  when  I  thought  of  the  many  hundred  rooms  in  the 
enormous  building.  But  their  tastes  were  of  the  sim- 
plest, and  the  Czar  particularly  affected  tiny  rooms, 
though  they  were  much  at  variance  with  his  towering 
frame  and  majestic  bearing.  His  manner  impressed  me 
with  a  conviction  of  sincerity  and  earnestness. 

Before  leaving  St.  Petersburg,  we  were  invited  once 
more  to  Gatchina.  This  time  it  was  in  the  evening;  a 
special  train  conveyed  about  one  hundred  and  fifty 
guests.  On  arriving,  we  were  met  by  a  long  stream  of 
royal  carriages,  which  took  us  to  the  palace,  where  we 
witnessed  an  entertainment  consisting  of  three  short 
plays  in  three  languages,  after  which  supper  was  served. 
I  had  been  given  a  seat  in  the  third  row,  but  when  the 
Royalties  came  in,  I  was  bidden  to  sit  behind  the  Em- 
press, who  every  now  and  then  would  turn  round  and 
make  some  pleasant  remark. 

223 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

There  are  some  curious  customs  at  the  Russian  court 
which  do  not  harmonize  with  one's  idea  of  a  despotic  and 
autocratic  sovereign.  While  we  were  sitting  at  small 
tables,  the  Czar  walked  about  talking  to  his  guests,  all 
of  whom,  including  officers,  remained  seated.  It  appears 
that  that  was  the  habit  of  Peter  the  Great,  who  disliked 
ceremony  of  any  kind ;  and  as  tradition  is  everything  in 
Russia,  this  custom  was  religiously  kept.  There  is  no 
doubt  that  the  etiquette  of  the  Russian  court  is  much  less 
rigid  than  it  is  in  England  or  Germany.  For  instance, 
it  is  not  the  custom  to  treat  the  members  of  the  Imperial 
Family  with  so  much  deference  as  in  Q,ther  European 
courts ;  I  noticed  that  the  ladies  did  not  think  of  courtesy- 
ing  to  a  young  Grand  Duke,  and  would  rise  only  when 
the  Czarina  did,  or  at  the  entrance  of  the  Czar.  So  too, 
in  making  their  obeisance,  they  bowed  stiffly  from  the 
waist,  which  was  even  more  ungraceful  than  the  English 
bob,  our  apology  for  a  courtesy.  The  men,  on  the  other 
hand,  were  very  deferential,  particularly  to  the  ladies. 
At  private  dinners,  when  we  were  announced,  the  host 
would  rush  forward,  seize  my  hand,  and  kiss  it,  and  then 
proceed  to  introduce  all  the  men  present.  I  then  had  to 
ask  to  be  presented  to  every  lady,  and  duly  call  on  them 
personally  the  next  day.  This  I  found  very  irksome  and 
wearying,  as  it  stood  in  the  way  of  my  sight-seeing. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  sights  we  were  privileged 
to  see  was  the  New  Year's  Reception  at  the  Winter 
Palace.  At  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  whole 
court  attended,  and  society  paid  its  respects  to  the  sov- 
ereign. The  Czar,  dressed  on  this  particular  occasion  in 
the  uniform  of  the  Gardes  du  Corps,  gave  his  arm  to  the 
Czarina,  and  was  followed  by  the  imperial  family.    The 

224 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

train  of  each  Grand  Duchess  was  carried  by  four  young 
officers.  I  remember  that  that  of  the  Grand  Duchess 
Vladimir  was  of  silver  brocade,  with  a  sable  border  half 
a  yard  in  depth.  These  were  followed  by  long  files  of 
ladies-in-waiting,  dressed  in  green  and  gold,  and  maids- 
of -honor  in  red  and  gold.  The  procession  ended  when 
all  the  court  officials,  resplendent  in  gorgeous  uniforms 
and  covered  with  decorations,  walked  with  measured 
steps  through  the  long  suite  of  rooms,  and  lined  up  on 
each  side  with  officers  in  the  red,  white,  or  blue  of  their 
regiments.  To  these  the  Czar  spoke  as  he  passed, 
saying,  "Good  morning,  my  children,"  to  which  they 
replied  in  unison,  "We  are  happy  to  salute  you."  In 
other  rooms  ladies  were  assembled,  dressed  in  the  national 
costume  of  every  hue,  and  covered  with  jewels,  mostly 
cabochon  sapphires  and  emeralds.  All  wore  that  most 
becoming  of  head-dresses— the  "Kakoshnik,"  made  of 
various  materials  from  diamonds  to  plain  velvet.  The 
Czarina,  with  her  graceful  figure  and  small  head,  looked 
very  stately  in  a  magnificent  tiara,  and  a  blue  velvet  and 
ermine  train,  as  the  cortege  passed  on  to  the  chapel  to  hear 
mass.  This  lasted  an  hour,  every  one  remaining  stand- 
ing—an art  which  Royalty  alone  seems  to  have  the  gift 
of  practising  without  breaking  down,  and  without  ap- 
parent effort. 

I  cannot  adequately  describe  the  scene  in  the  chapel, 
which,  if  it  had  been  less  perfect  in  detail,  might  have 
appeared  somewhat  theatrical.  On  the  right,  the  dresses 
of  the  women  formed  a  sea  of  warm  color,  the  soft  red 
and  green  velvets  of  the  ladies-in-waiting  predominat- 
ing, their  long,  white  tulle  veils  looking  like  halos  round 
their  heads,  touched  here  and  there  by  iridescent  rays 
'1  225 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

from  the  rich  stained-glass  windows.  On  the  left,  the 
men  presented  a  scarcely  less  brilliant  group,  the  dark 
velvet  cassock  of  a  Lutheran  pastor  standing  out  in  ef- 
fective contrast  to  the  vivid  red  of  a  Cardinal  close  by. 
The  royal  choir,  which  follows  the  Czar  wherever  he 
goes,  is  the  finest  I  have  ever  heard.  Composed  of  male 
voices  alone,  without  the  aid  of  any  instrument  (none 
being  allowed  in  the  Greek  Church),  it  was  perfection. 
The  character  of  the  music  I  found  rather  monotonous, 
and  thought  to  myself  how  they  would  have  rendered 
one  of  Handel's  grand  anthems. 

A  story  was  told  me  of  this  celebrated  choir.  Clad 
originally  in  funereal  black,  they  offended  the  eyes  of 
a  certain  maid-of -honor,  a  favorite  of  the  Czar,  who, 
remonstrating  with  her  for  not  attending  mass,  asked 
the  reason.  The  lady  pleaded  that  she  was  suffering 
from  melancholy,  and  that  the  sight  of  the  black  choir 
would  aggravate  it.  The  next  day  her  excuse  was  gone, 
for  the  choir  appeared  in  crimson  surplices  braided  with 
gold,  and  they  have  continued  to  do  so  ever  since. 

Mass  over  in  the  chapel,  the  procession  reformed,  a 
pause  being  made  in  the  room  reserved  for  the  ambassa- 
dors and  diplomatic  corps.  His  Majesty  entered  into 
conversation  with  a  favored  few,  who  improved  the  shin- 
ing hour,  since,  with  the  exception  of  some  court  balls, 
this  was  the  only  occasion  they  had  of  speaking  to  him 
during  the  year.  Finally  the  ladies  passed  before  the 
Czar  and  kissed  hands,  holding  on  to  each  other's  trains, 
a  sight  which  was  more  quaint  than  imposing.  When 
all  was  over,  we  sat  down  to  luncheon,  reaching  home 
about  three  o'clock.  Not  having  any  such  sumptuous 
day  gowns  as  I  found  were  worn,  I  was  reduced  on  this 

226 


^       /' 


> 


7: 


0 

X 

D 

— 

a 

fry 

0 

a 

M 

tn 

n 

:/! 

0 

tn 

—I 

r^ 

"Z. 

:^ 

rt 

n 

n 

M 

t    «  '  >;■ 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

occasion  to  a  blue-and-gold  tea-gown,  which  did  quite 
well,  although  it  seemed  a  strange  garment  in  which  to 
go  to  court.  On  our  way  out,  I  saw  a  sentry  guarding  a 
magnificent  sable  cape,  which  I  was  told  belonged  to  the 
Czarina.  It  was  nearly  black,  and  it  had  taken  years  to 
collect  the  skins  at  a  cost  of  £12,000. 

Most  Russian  ladies  smoke  cigarettes,  and  at  all  the 
parties  to  which  I  went  one  of  the  reception-rooms  was 
set  apart  for  the  purpose,  which  caused  a  continual 
movement  to  and  fro, — taking  off  the  stiffness  of  a 
formal  party  and  enabling  people  to  circulate  more 
freely.  This  in  itself  would  insure  a  pleasant  eve- 
ning; for  who  has  not  seen  with  despair  the  only  chair  at 
hand  triumphantly  seized  by  a  bore,  whom  nothing  but  a 
final  "Good  night"  will  move? 

Russians,  as  a  rule,  have  enormous  appetites,  and  are 
very  fond  of  good  living,  eating — not  to  mention  drink- 
ing— often  to  excess.  Drinking  in  Russian  society  is 
not  considered  a  heinous  offense.  The  night  we  went  to 
Gatchina,  the  officer  in  charge,  the  Colonel  of  the 
Preobejensky  Guards,  the  smartest  regiment  in  Russia, 
who  was  responsible  that  night  for  the  safety  of  the 
Czar,  was  so  drunk  that  he  fell  heavily  on  my  shoulder 
when  presented  to  me.  Those  near  laughingly  propped 
him  up,  evidently  thinking  nothing  of  it. 

We  lunched  several  times  at  the  celebrated  restaurant 
kept  by  Cubat,  where  our  plates  were  piled  with  enor- 
mous helpings  fit  for  a  regiment  of  soldiers.  Cubat  was 
a  most  interesting  person,  late  head  chef  to  the  Czar, 
whose  service  he  had  only  just  left.  When  asked  the 
reason,  he  said  that  the  supervision  in  the  kitchen  of  the 
royal  palace  was  so  irksome  and  stringent, — dozens  of 

229 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

detectives  watching  his  every  gesture  and  pouncing  on 
every  pinch  of  salt, — that  the  salary  of  £2000  a  year 
did  not  compensate  him.  He  later  bought  the  hotel 
Paiva  in  the  Champs-Elysees  and  started  the  Cubat  Res- 
taurant ;  but  the  prices  were  so  high  that  it  soon  came  to 
an  end. 

One  night  we  dined  with  the  Grand  Duke  and  Duchess 
Serge  at  the  beautiful  old  "Beloselski"  palace.  It  was 
built  in  the  reign  of  the  great  Catherine,  whose  hand 
is  found  in  everything  of  real  taste  in  Russia.  Deco- 
rated and  furnished  by  the  best  French  artists  of  the 
day,  to  whom  the  Empress  was  a  generous  patron, — 
with  its  lovely  Bouchers  and  carved  white  panelings, — 
I  thought  it  quite  the  finest  house  we  saw  while  in  Russia. 
We  waited  some  time  for  a  belated  guest,  Mme.  X., 
who  finally  appeared,  looking  regal,  with  the  most  mag- 
nificent jewels  I  had  ever  seen  on  any  private  person; 
but  on  her  bare  arm,. as  distinct  as  possible,  was  the  black- 
and-blue  imprint — fingers  and  thumb — of  a  brutal  hand. 
No  one  could  help  noticing  it,  and  the  Grand  Duchess 
pointed  at  it  in  dismay.  "No,  no,"  cried  Mme.  X., 
laughingly,  "X.  is  at  Moscow."  ''Quelque  jaloucc!"  said 
my  neighbor.  At  dinner  I  sat  between  the  Grand  Duke 
Serge,  and  the  Grand  Duke  Paul,  who  was  quite  the 
best-looking  man  I  saw  in  Russia.  I  found  an  old  friend 
there  in  Count  Schouwalow,  who  had  been  Ambassador 
in  London;  also  M.  de  Giers  and  his  wife,  at  whose 
house  I  afterward  met  the  redoubtable  PobiedonostzefF, 
Head  of  the  Synod,  with  whom  I  had  a  long  talk— a 
tall,  gaunt  man,  whose  strange  yellow  teeth,  seemingly 
all  in  one,  impressed  me  more  than  anything  else.  Other 
interesting    people    dining    there    that    evening    were 

230 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Count  and  Countess  IgnatiefF,  Prince  and  Princess 
Solytzkow,  and  Prince  and  Princess  Worouzow. 

No  politics  nor  anything  of  that  nature,  whether  in- 
ternal or  external,  were  discussed;  reticence  as  regards 
public  affairs  in  Russia  is  only  equaled  by  discretion  as 
regards  the  affairs  of  other  nations  of  other  countries. 

Much  to  my  chagrin,  we  did  not  stay  in  St.  Peters- 
burg for  the  court  balls,  but,  time  passing,  went  on  to 
Moscow.  Before  leaving,  however,  we  visited  the  Win- 
ter Palace,  Prince  Troubetsky,  the  Lord  Chamberlain, 
being  deputied  to  take  us  over  it.  He  had  evidently 
been  asked  to  "do  the  civil,"  but  was  dreadfully  bored, 
and  hustled  us  smartly  through  the  immense  number  of 
rooms  and  interminable  corridors.  Even  then  it  took 
us  two  good  hours  to  get  round. 

We  also  visited  the  School  for  Naval  Cadets,  the 
admiral  and  his  staff  receiving  us  with  much  ceremony. 
The  cadets  looked  pale  and  rather  hunted.  I  felt  so 
sorry  for  them,  penned  in  small  rooms,  with  only  a  strip 
of  yard,  surrounded  by  tall  brick  walls,  in  which  to  exer- 
cise. 

Our  friend  M.  de  Breteuil  did  not  go  to  Moscow  with 
us,  as  he  was  invited  by  the  Grand  Duke  Vladimir  to 
join  an  expedition  to  shoot  bears.  It  was  significant  that 
on  the  day  they  started,  the  Czar,  who  was  setting  out 
on  some  journey  at  the  same  hour,  had  three  trains  kept 
in  readiness,  and  not  even  the  Grand  Duke  knew  in 
which  his  brother  was  traveling ! 

For  the  tourist  there  is  no  comparison  between  St. 
Petersburg  and  Moscow,  the  latter  is  so  much  more 
striking  and  so  full  of  local  color.  Everything  was  a 
source  of  interest,  from  the  narrow  streets  filled  with  a 

231 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

motley  crowd  of  fur-clad  people,  the  markets  with  their 
frozen  fish  or  blocks  of  milk,  from  which  slabs  would  be 
chopped  off,  and  carcasses  of  beasts  propped  up  in  rows 
against  the  stalls,  to  the  Kremlin  with  its  palaces  and 
churches.  "La  ville  des  marchands"  as  .it  is  called,  is 
full  of  riches  and  rich  people.  We  visited  the  Trichiakoff 
picture-gallery,  belonging  to  a  retired  merchant,  where 
I  was  amazed  to  see  depicted  all  the  grimmest  and  most 
gruesome  historical  incidents  of  Russian  tyranny  and 
cruelty:  Ivan  the  Terrible  murdering  his  son,  or  receiv- 
ing on  the  red  staircase  of  the  Kremlin  a  hapless  envoy 
whose  foot  he  transfixed  to  the  floor  with  the  spiked 
ferule  of  his  walking-stick,  while  he  read  some  unwel- 
come message;  Siberian  prisoners;  horrible  deeds  perpe- 
trated in  the  fortress  of  Peter  and  Paul ;  and  many  other 
atrocities. 

Shortly  after  our  arrival  we  received  a  visit  from 
Prince  Dolgorouki,  the  Governor  General  of  Moscow. 
A  charming  old  man  of  eighty,  a  grand  seigneur  of  the 
old  school,  he  looked  very  smart  and  upright  in  the  uni- 
form of  the  Chevalier  Gardes.  He  told  me  that  he  had 
been  twenty-two  years  Governor  of  Moscow,  and  had 
served  fifty-six  in  the  army,  under  three  Czars.  He 
showed  us  much  civility  during  our  stay,  and  did  all  he 
could  to  make  it  pleasant.  His  aide-de-camp,  Prince 
Ourousow,  went  about  with  us,  and  as  he  spoke  excellent 
French,  we  found  him  most  agreeable.  Every  morning 
he  came  to  inquire  what  places  of  interest  we  should  like 
to  visit,  and  expeditions  of  all  kinds  were  arranged  for 
us.  One  day  we  drove  to  the  Sparrow  Hills,  the  spot 
where  Napoleon  stood  when  he  first  looked  upon  the  city 
which  preferred  destruction  to  his  rule.     The  marble 

232 


'?»-'t 


^"••(BO^*-' 


GRAND   DUKE  ALUXANDllk,  Al-TIiRWAKD   AI.EXANDHR  III,  AND   THE 
PRINCESS   UAGMAR,  NOW    DOWAGER   EMPRESS   OE    RUSSE\ 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

statue  of  himself  crowned  with  laurels  which  he  brought 
with  him,  is  carefully  preserved  in  the  Kremlin ;  but,  by 
the  irony  of  fate,  it  is  a  trophy  of  war — instead  of  repre- 
senting, as  Napoleon  intended,  the  Conqueror  of  all  the 
Russias.  It  stands  there  as  a  reproof  to  the  overweening 
ambition  and  vanity  of  the  greatest  of  men. 

With  the  Kremlin  we  naturally  were  enchanted.  The 
old  Organaya  Palace,  and  the  church,  with  its  mosaics 
and  Byzantine  decorations,  mellowed  by  centuries  to  a 
wonderful  hue,  had  a  mysterious  and  haunting  effect. 
Could  those  walls  have  spoken,  I  have  no  doubt  I  should 
have  fled  in  terror.  As  it  was,  we  were  so  interested  and 
fascinated  that  we  returned  again,  and  this  time  without 
an  escort.  I  was  amazed  to  find  the  whole  place  full  of 
beggars  and  cripples  of  every  description,  who  pestered 
us  for  alms;  on  our  previous  visit  we  had  not  seen  one. 
We  heard  afterwards  that  the  Governor  had  issued  an 
order  bidding  them  all  to  leave  the  precincts,  that  we 
might  not  be  annoyed  by  them.  During  our  stay  in 
Russia,  the  authorities  were  everywhere  anxious  that 
Randolph  should  have  a  good  impression,  and  while  in 
St.  Petersburg  we  were  followed  about  by  two  detec- 
tives, not,  as  we  at  first  imagined,  to  spy  upon  us,  but  to 
see  that  as  distinguished  strangers  we  were  not  molested 
in  any  way. 

Prince  Dolgorouki  was  an  absolute  autocrat  in  JNIos- 
cow.  Upon  our  expressing  a  wish  one  night  when  we 
were  dining  with  him  to  hear  some  Tziganes  who  were 
giving  a  performance  some  distance  off,  a  messenger  was 
despatched  forthwith,  and  they  were  ordered  to  come  to 
the  Governor's  house.  They  gave  us  a  very  good  repre- 
sentation of  wild  national  songs  and  dances.    What  hap- 

235 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

pened  to  the  spectators  from  whom  their  performers  had 
been  snatched  we  never  heard. 

Before  leaving,  we  attended  the  "Bal  de  la  Noblesse" 
in  the  Assembly  Rooms.  It  was  a  fine  sight,  the  floor 
excellent,  and  the  music  most  inspiriting.  There  was  a 
"Marshal  of  the  Ceremonies,"  who  reminded  me  of  the 
descriptions  of  Beau  Nash— strutting  about,  full  of  airs 
and  graces,  introducing  people,  arranging  and  rul- 
ing with  great  precision  the  intricacies  of  the  various 
dances.  Officers  would  be  brought  up  to  me,  clicking 
their  spurs  together  and  saluting ;  then  they  would  seize 
my  waist  without  a  word,  and  whisk  me  round  the  enor- 
mous room  at  a  furious  pace,  my  feet  scarcely  touching 
the  ground.  Before  I  had  recovered,  breathless  and  be- 
wildered, I  would  be  handed  over  to  the  next,  until  I  had 
to  stop  from  sheer  exhaustion. 

I  believe  when  the  Court  goes  to  Moscow,  which  it 
does  every  four  or  five  years,  it  is  the  occasion  of  the 
appearance  of  families,  bearing  the  finest  old  names  of 
the  country,  who  generally  live  buried  in  the  provinces — 
people  who  look  upon  society  in  St.  Petersburg  very 
much  as  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain  looked  on  the  hetero- 
geneous mass  of  which  society  in  Paris  was  composed 
under  the  Empire ;  and  who  are  so  Russian  that  even  the 
Mazurka,  since  it  is  Polish,  must  not  be  danced  too  well. 

The  day  we  left  Moscow  our  friend  the  Governor 
came  to  see  us  off,  and  presented  me  with  a  lovely  bou- 
quet of  orchids,  which  was  produced  from  a  band-box  at 
the  last  moment.  But  before  I  had  had  time  to  sit  down, 
the  poor  flowers  were  shriveled  as  though  they  had  been 
scorched,  one  instant  of  the  twenty-two  degrees  below 
zero  proving  too  much  for  them.     I  left  Moscow  with 

236 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

great  regret,  as,  apart  from  the  delights  of  the  place,  I 
met  some  charming  women,  whose  society  I  found  most 
agreeable.  I  gathered  from  them  that  Russian  ladies, 
not  indulging  in  any  sport  and  taking  little  or  no  exer- 
cise, stay  a  great  deal  indoors,  and  in  consequence  have 
much  time  to  educate  themselves,  to  read,  and  to  culti- 
vate the  fine  arts.  Speaking  many  languages,  and  read- 
ing widely,  they  form  a  most  attractive  society.  It  is 
said  that  Russians  are  not  given  to  intimacy,  and  that  for- 
eigners never  get  to  know  them  well.  I  think  that  this 
is  so,  but  I  see  no  reason  to  credit  them  with  less  warmth 
of  heart  and  faculty  for  lasting  friendship  than  other 
nations  possess.  It  was,  however,  a  matter  of  surprise 
to  me  that  women  so  eminently  fitted  by  nature  and  edu- 
cation to  influence  and  help  those  struggling  in  the 
higher  vocations  of  life,  should  have  seemingly  but  one 
ambition — to  efface  themselves,  to  attract  no  attention, 
to  arouse  no  jealousies.  Yet  I  doubt  not  that  their  influ- 
ence is  felt,  though  it  may  not  be  open  and  fearless  as  in 
England  or  America.  As  a  refutation  of  the  supposed 
insincerity  of  Russian  character,  it  is  an  undisputed  fact 
that  a  succes  d'estime  is  unknown,  and  the  stranger  or 
diplomatist,  however  well  recommended,  or  however  good 
his  position,  is  not  by  any  means  invited  to  the  fetes  as 
a  matter  of  course.  After  the  first  introduction,  he  is 
asked  only  according  to  his  host's  appreciation  of  him. 
I  am  not  speaking  of  official  circles,  where  policj^  is  the 
master  of  ceremonies.  The  same  may  be  said  of  the 
London  society  of  to-day.  Although  formerly  all  for- 
eigners and  the  staff  of  the  Embassies  were  personcB 
gratce,  nowadays  English  society  has  become  too  large, 
and  a  hostess  has  to  pick  and  choose. 

237 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

I  cannot  leave  the  subject  of  Russia  and  the  Russians 
without  speaking  of  the  one  it  has  been  my  privilege  to 
know  best;  namely,  the  Dowager  Duchess  of  Saxe- 
Coburg-Gotha,  formerly  Duchess  of  Edinburgh.  We 
used  to  see  her  very  often  when  she  lived  in  England.  A 
warm-hearted  woman  of  rare  intelligence  and  excep- 
tional education,  her  early  life  as  the  only  daughter  of 
the  Czar  (Alexander  II)  was  a  most  interesting  one,  as, 
quite  apart  from  the  exalted  position  she  held,  it  was  her 
duty  for  two  hours  daily  to  read  her  father's  corre- 
spondence and  the  secret  news  of  the  world,  in  itself  a 
liberal  education.  An  excellent  musician,  Rubinstein 
once  said  of  her,  so  she  told  me,  '"Vous  ne  jouez  pas  si 
mal  pour  une  Princesse."  We  frequently  played  to- 
gether duets  on  two  pianos,  or  quartettes  in  which  Lady 
Mary  Fitzwilliam,  my  sister  Mrs.  Leslie,  and  Signor 
Albanesi  would  join.  A  fine  linguist,  speaking  fluently 
several  languages,  the  Duchess  wrote  them  equally  well. 


FROM  H.  I.  AND  R.  H.  THE  DUCHESS  OF  EDINBURGH, 
NOW  MARIE,  DUCHESS  OF  SAXE-COBURG-GOTHA 

Stuttgart,  June  16,  1886. 
Dear  Lady  Randolph  : 

I  had  no  time  to  thank  you  from  Coburg  for  your  kind,  long 
letter  from  Hatfield.  How  triumphant  you  must  be,  and  how 
pleased  Lord  Randolph  is !  Please  give  him  my  heartfelt  good 
wishes  on  this  parliamentary  success.  And  so  the  G.  0.  M.  is 
done  for,  at  least  for  the  present  moment,  and  you  all  think  that 
you  have  saved  England !  But  when  the  new  elections  have  to 
begin  again,  what  hard  work  for  you,  though  you  are  so  full  of 
energy ! 

238 


o 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

I  hope  you  enjoyed  Ascot  and  that  the  hideous  cHmate  did 
not  spoil,  as  usual,  all  the  enjoyments. 

I  have  come  to  Stuttgart  for  a  few  days  on  a  visit  to  my 
aunt,  the  Queen  of  Wiirtemberg.  She  is  a  very  charming  and 
amiable  old  lady,  a  real  grande  dame  of  the  past  generation. 
The  Queen  lives  in  a  most  charming  villa  outside  the  town,  with 
lovely  grounds,  and  such  roses  as  I  have  never  seen  before  any- 
where. The  country  around  is  very  pretty,  and  a  short  stay 
here  is  very  enjoyable.   .   .   . 

We  are  dreadfully  struck  by  the  tragic  death  of  the  King  of 
Bavaria.  As  a  child,  I  used  to  know  him  well :  he  was  a  charm- 
ing young  man,  so  good-looking  and  so  pleasant.  I  quite  fell 
in  love  with  him  when  I  was  ten  years  old.  He  had  the  finest 
eyes  one  could  dream  about,  and  which  often  haunt  me  now  after 
more  than  twenty  years.  Can  any  novel  or  drama  be  more 
tragic  than  the  life  and  death  of  this  unfortunate  mad  King.''  I 
have  never  seen  Munich,  and  want  to  go  there  from  here;  also 
perhaps  to  Augsburg,  where  there  is  an  interesting  exhibition. 

I  hope  the  Eastwcll  flowers  are  pretty  good,  but  I  wish  I 
could  send  you  some  roses  from  here ;  they  are  too  magnificent. 
My  aunt  has  created  the  place,  and  looks  after  it  with  "devoted 
attention." 

I  wish  you  would  come  to  Coburg  in  September ;  it  would  be  a 
great  pleasure  for  me. 

Accept  my  best  love  and  many  wishes  to  hear  often  from  you. 

Marie. 

Peterhof,  August  2,  1886. 
Dear  Lady  Randolph  : 

I  was  so  pleased  to  receive  your  interesting  letter  only  a  few 
days  after  my  arrival  here,  and  I  thank  you  for  it  a  thousand 
times. 

What  an  interesting  time  you  are  having  now,  and  how  ex- 
cited you  must  all  be!     Now  I  hear  the  Cabinet  is  formed  and 

241 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

Lord  Randolph  is  Minister  so  soon  again.  Please  offer  him  my 
most  sincere  good  wishes  for  his  success  in  public  life,  and 
though  I  shed  a  tear  or  two  over  the  fall  of  "my  idol,''  I  sin- 
cerely hope  that  the  new  Ministry  will  be  more  successful.  I  do 
not  believe  it,  however,  and  slightly  chuckle  over  the  difficulties 
they  will  have  to  face. 

Here  we  do  not  think  much  of  politics  at  present,  and  enjoy 
life  more  simply  by  having  lovely  weather,  pleasant  company, 
and  being  out-of-doors  from  morning  till  night.  Nowhere  does 
one  enjoy  the  summer  more  than  in  Russia,  and  I  must  say  that 
it  is  really  heavenly  weather  when  the  summer  is  fine,  for  we 
have  the  very  long  days  and  hardly  any  night. 

Here  we  live  in  separate  small  villas  in  the  park,  and  the  big, 
fine,  old  rococo  palace  is  only  used  for  receptions  or  distin- 
guished guests.  I  live  with  the  children  in  one  house,  and  the 
Majesties  live  in  a  cottage  some  five-minutes'  walk  from  us.  It 
is  all  very  delightful  in  fine  weather,  but  not  so  convenient  dur- 
ing rainy  days,  as  one  keeps  running  from  one  house  to  the 
other.  Nearly  all  of  my  relatives  live  in  the  neighborhood — 
dozens  of  cousins  of  every  description,  masculine  and  feminine, 
uncles,  aunts,  nephews,  and  nieces.  You  never  saw  such  a  family 
party.  The  Queen  of  Greece  is  here  with  nearly  all  her  children, 
grown-up  young  men  and  babies,  she  herself  looking  younger 
than  me,  and  dancing  away  merrily  whilst  I  look  on.  I  cannot 
make  up  my  mind  to  dance  in  the  same  place  which  witnessed 
my  debut  some  sixteen  years  ago,  a  shm  young  lady  then,  a  fat 
matron  now.  So  I  walk  about,  renew  old  acquaintances,  have 
people  presented,  and  try  to  make  myself  agreeable.  All  wel- 
come me  with  joy  and  such  cordiality  that  the  task  is  an  easy 
one.  One  dresses  here  immensely  and  is  wonderfully  smart  and 
well  got  up ;  it  is  a  real  pleasure  for  me  to  see  all  the  lovely 
toilettes,  bonnets  and  cloaks — quite  a  study. 

My  uncles  and  cousins  have  beautiful  country  places  all  about 
Peterhof,  and  the  other  day  one  of  them  gave  a  very  animated 

242 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

small  dance.  To-day  there  is  a  big  ball  at  the  palace,  with 
ambassadors,  etc.,  and  we  expect  one  or  two  more  dances.  On 
Monday  was  the  Empress's  namesday ;  also  mine,  and  it  is 
always  a  grand  day  for  festivities  and  presents.  We  had  in  the 
evening  a  lovely  ballet  in  the  open  air  and  grand  illuminations 
in  the  park.  There  are  beautiful  fountains  here,  a  copy  of 
Versailles,  which  light  up  in  a  wonderful  way.  Every  evening 
bands  play  in  the  park  and  quantities  of  people  walk,  ride,  and 
drive  about.  It  is  a  very  animated  sight,  and  we  go  about  in  big 
char-a-bancs  with  postilions  a  la  franfaise.  My  lovely  helle-sceur, 
now  the  Grand  Duchess  Serge,  lives  in  the  same  house,  while 
three  of  my  brothers  are  at  the  camp,  serving  with  various  regi- 
ments. We  have  also  to  go  there  from  time  to  time  to  witness 
various  military  performances.  It  is  a  grand  sight,  as  there  are 
always  about  30,000  troops  assembled  there.  We  are  soon  to 
spend  a  week  there  for  the  grand  manoeuvers.  After  my  very 
quiet  London  life,  I  feel  perfectly  confused  at  this  very  ani- 
mated existence ;  but  it  does  me  a  great  deal  of  good. 

My  children  are  very  happy ;  ride  about,  bathe  in  the  sea,  and 
run  wild  nearly  the  whole  day  long. 

We  have  an  Austrian  Archduke  staying  here  with  a  very  nice 
Archduchess,  whom  we  try  to  amuse. 

I  must  now  finish  this  very  disjointed  letter,  written  during 
several  days. 

What  will  you  do  this  autumn,  dear  Lady  Randolph.''  Lon- 
don must  be  detestable  now.  I  quite  pity  you,  and  wish  you 
were  here. 

Au  revoir,  mais  quand? 

Maeie. 

Malta,  January  13,  1888. 
Dear  Lady  Randolph  : 

It  is  quite  unpardonable  of  me  not  to  have  written  to  you  be- 
fore, but  somehow,  cruising  about  as  we  did  the  whole  autumn 

243 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

and  living  on  board  ship,  being  very  hot  and  lazy,  all  this  did 
not  predispose  one  to  active  correspondence.  And  now  it  is  the 
slight  boredom  of  the  Malta  life,  its  uninteresting  course,  and 
mille  autres  excuses.  I  am  sincerely  glad  that  you  have  both 
gone  to  Russia  and  have  such  pleasant  impressions:  your  nice 
letters,  from  England  first  and  next  from  Petersburg,  gave  me 
much  pleasure.  Many  sincere  thanks,  and  I  feel  quite  touched 
that  you  found  a  moment's  time  to  write  from  my  native  coun- 
try amidst  all  the  excitement. 

I  did  very  strongly  recommend  you  to  all  my  relations,  but 
two  of  them  you  had  already  previously  greatly  impressed,  the 
Grand  Duchess  Vladimir  at  Paris,  and  my  brother  Serge  last 
summer  in  London.   .   .   . 

My  countrymen  and  women  are  very  lively  and  demonstra- 
tive; they  have  kind,  warm  hearts  and  are  really  fond  of  one. 
I  feel  that  more  and  more  when  I  go  back  to  Russia. 

Give  many  niessages  to  Lord  Randolph,  and  I  also  hope  he 
will  write  me  a  few  words.  I  am  always  thinking  of  his  "es- 
capade" last  winter  at  Messina,  and  cannot  help  laughing  at  it 
very  sincerely.  How  I  should  enjoy  another  good  talk  with 
him,  because,  you  know,  I  have  a  faible  for  him.   .   .   . 

The  Duke  is  hurrying  me,  as  the  post  starts  at  once;  it  is 
most  irregular  here.  I  am  so  sorry  I  cannot  write  a  more  inter- 
esting letter;  I  have  not  half  told  my  tale  yet.  Au  revoir,  dear 
Lady  Randolph.  Many  more  thanks,  and  do  not  forget  a  true 
friend. 

Marie. 


The  "escapade"  to  which  the  Duchess  of  Coburg  refers, 
was  an  incident  which  happened  in  one  of  Lord  Ran- 
dolph's journeys  abroad,  which  is  described  in  the  fol- 
lowing letters : 

244 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Messina,  March  9,  1887. 

Here  we  are,  caught  Hke  rats  in  a  trap.  Just  as  we  were 
packing  up  yesterday  to  leave  for  Naples  it  was  announced  that 
on  account  of  cholera  at  Catania  quarantine  had  been  imposed 
in  Sicily,  and  that  we  could  not  leave.  This  is  a  great  blow,  for 
we  do  not  know  how  long  we  may  be  detained  here.  There  is 
nothing  to  see  or  do,  and  the  hotel  is  dirty  and  uncomfortable. 
We  are  in  despair  .  .   . 

Naples,  March  12,  1887. 

I  send  you  the  enclosed  under  what  the  Foreign  Office  calls 
"Flying  Seal,"  which  means  you  are  to  read  it  and  send  it  on ; 
it  will  tell  you  of  our  proceedings.  At  last  we  have  got  here, 
but  without  either  servants  or  luggage ;  goodness  knows  when 
they  will  come.  Harry  T.  and  I  made  up  our  minds  we  would 
not  stand  being  detained  prisoners  indefinitely  at  Messina.  We 
made  a  fruitless  application  to  the  Ambassador  at  Rome  to  be 
exempted  from  quarantine;  all  regular  steamboats  had  been 
taken  off,  and  even  if  we  had  got  a  passage  we  should  have  had 
to  do  five  days'  quarantine  at  Gaeta  ...  a  horrible  prospect. 
So  we  went  to  the  Consul  ...  a  character  he  is!  He  intro- 
duced us  to  a  man  who  knew  a  man  who  knew  some  Sicilian 
fishermen  who  for  a  consideration  would  put  us  across  the 
Straits.  Nous  n'avons  fait  ni  une  ni  deux,  but  pursued  the 
project.  We  embarked  in  an  open  boat  at  eight  o'clock  on 
Wednesday  evening  in  Messina  Harbour,  with  nothing  but  a 
tiny  bag  and  a  rug,  with  a  dissolute  sort  of  half-bred  Enghsh- 
man  and  Sicilian,  to  act  as  interpreter  and  guide,  and  six  wild, 
singing,  chattering  Sicilian  fishermen.  We  reached  the  Cala- 
brian  coast  about  9.30 ;  but  the  difficulty  was  to  find  a  landing 
place  where  there  were  no  gendarmes  or  coastguards  or  inhab- 
itants awake.  The  last  danger  was  the  greatest,  for  the  peas- 
antry are  awfully  superstitious  about  cholera,  and  are  a  wild, 

245 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

savage  people ;  and  we  might  have  had  rough  treatment  if  any 
number  of  them  happened  to  see  us. 

At  last  we  found  a  little  fishing  village  where  all  was  quiet. 
In  we  ran,  out  we  jumped,  and  off  went  the  boat  like  lightning. 
After  clambering  up  some  precipitous  rocks,  fortunately  with- 
out waking  any  one  or  breaking  our  necks,  we  found  temporary 
shelter  in  a  miserable  inn,  where  we  represented  ourselves  as 
having  come  by  boat  from  Reggio,  and  being  unable  to  get 
back  on  account  of  the  strong  Sirocco  wind  which  was  blowing. 
We  had  to  wait  about  an  hour  here  all  alone,  with  two  wild  men 
and  a  wild  woman,  while  our  guide  was  quietly  endeavouring  to 
find  a  conveyance.  At  last  he  got  a  common  cart,  and  about 
eleven  o'clock  we  started  for  the  house  of  an  Englishman  at  San 
Giovanni  who  has  a  silk  mill,  and  to  whom  we  had  a  letter  from 
the  Consul.  The  inn-keeper  and  his  companions  asked  a  lot  of 
tiresome  questions  and  seemed  very  suspicious,  but  'n  the  end 
let  us  go  quietly.  Just  after  starting  we  met  two  gendarmes, 
and  afterwards  two  coastguards,  but  fortunately  they  asked  no 
questions ;  so  everything  went  well  for  some  four  or  five  miles, 
except  for  the  awful  jolting  of  the  cart,  which  exceeded  any- 
thing in  the  way  of  shaking  you  ever  dreamt  of.  All  of  a  sudden 
the  peasant  who  was  driving  the  mule  ran  the  cart  against  a 
great  stone,  and  sent  us  all  flying  into  the  road.  I  never  saw 
such  a  sprawling  spill.  Fortunately  we  were  only  shaken  and 
dirty,  but  the  driver  was  much  hurt,  which  served  him  right, 
and  he  groaned  and  moaned  terribly  for  the  remainder  of  the 
journey;  being  a  big,  fat  man,  he  had  fallen  heavily,  and  I 
should  not  be  surprised  if  he  had  since  died. 

At  last  at  one  in  the  morning  we  reached  the  house  we  were 
looking  for,  and  had  a  great  business  to  awaken  the  people ;  nor 
did  we  know  how  we  should  be  received,  arriving  in  so  strange  a 
manner.  The  Englishman,  however,  was  very  good,  took  us  in, 
gave  us  supper,  and  we  lay  quiet  till  the  evening  of  the  follow- 
ing day,  when  we  slipped  into  the  direct  train  for  this  place, 

246 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

which  we  reached  without  further  trouble.  But  what  a  thing  it 
is  to  have  an  evil  conscience !  I  kept  thinking  that  every  station- 
master  and  gendarme  on  the  road  scrutinised  us  unnecessarily ; 
and  what  a  trouble  and  scandal  it  would  have  made  if  we  had 
been  arrested  and  put  in  prison !  However  all  is  well  that  ends 
well! 

Before  closing  this  chapter  I  must  mention  one  more 
Russian  friend  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  have  in  the 
late  M.  de  Staal,  for  many  years  Russian  Ambassador 
in  London.  His  delightful  personality,  charm  of  con- 
versation and  kind  heart,  made  him  extremely  popular; 
and  his  memory  will  live  long  in  the  thoughts  of  his 
many  friends.  I  used  to  meet  him  at  Eastwell,  a  fine 
place  in  Kent  which  the  Duke  of  Edinburgh  had  for 
some  years  and  where  M.  de  Staal  was  the  life  and  soul 
of  the  party.  He  sent  me  his  photograph  some  time  be- 
fore his  death  with  the  following  charming  and  charac- 
teristic note : 

Chesham  House 

Chesham  Place,  S.  W.,  le  31  Oct.  1902. 

Chere  Madame  et  amie  : 

Voici  la  tres  vieille  face  d'un  tres  vieux  homme  qu'est  a   demi- 
mort  mais  vous  aime  bien. 
Ne  I'accueillez  pas  trop  mal. 

Sincerement  a  vous, 

Staal. 


12 


247 


CHAPTER  XI 

BEELIN    SOCIETY    AND    COURT    FUNCTIONS— FRENCH 
SOCIETY   AND    PERSONAGES 

ON  our  way  back  from  Russia,  in  1888,  we  stayed 
I  for  ten  days  at  the  British  Embassy  in  Berlin. 
Sir  Edward  Malet,  who  was  the  Ambassador, 
was  very  much  in  favor  with  the  Imperial  Family.  A 
man  of  small  stature,  he  has  nevertheless  a  commanding 
presence,  with  a  pleasant  and  open  countenance  and 
the  most  courteous  of  manners.  He  is  verv  well  in- 
formed,  and  talks  agreeably  on  all  subjects.  Lady 
Ermyntrude,  his  wife,  who  was  equally  liked,  is  a 
daughter  of  the  late  Duke  of  Bedford,  and  an  extremely 
cultivated  woman.  They  both  showed  us  the  greatest 
hospitality,  even  giving  a  dinner  in  our  honor. 

After  ultra-fashionable  and  brilliant  St.  Petersburg, 
Berlin  society  seemed  a  little  quiet.  But  there  were 
some  exceptions,  notably  Princess  Karl  Egon  Fiirsten- 
berg  (now  Comtesse  Jean  de  Castellane),  Princess 
Antoine  Radziwill,  and  Countess  von  Hohenau.  This 
lady  was  renowned  for  her  beautiful  figure,  which  I  have 
seen  equaled  only  by  that  of  Lady  Claud  Hamilton. 
Princess  Fiirstenberg  (who  was  a  stepdaughter  of  the 
late  Due  de  Valan9ay  and  half-sister  of  the  Prince  de 
Sagan,  already  mentioned  in  these  reminiscences)  held 

248 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

a  unique  position.  To  her  own  vivid  personality  she 
added  her  husband's  great  name  and  immense  wealth. 
Well  educated,  and  with  a  restless  and  ambitious  mind, 
she  has  always  taken  a  keen  interest  in  politics.  Had 
her  life  been  spent  in  England  instead  of  abroad,  she 
would  certainly  have  played  a  greater  part.  In  Ger- 
many there  is  little  scope  in  that  line  for  a  woman,  and 
in  France  still  less.  Her  dinners  and  her  parties  were 
the  most  successful  entertainments  given  in  Berlin. 
Prince  Fiirstenberg,  who  has  since  died,  was  a  very 
independent  man,  and  some  years  later  he  incurred  the 
present  Kaiser's  wrath  in  a  quarrel  which  made  consid- 
erable stir  at  the  time.  William  II  issued  an  order  to 
the  effect  that  army  officers  should  take  precedence  of 
the  nobility.  The  Prince  retired  from  the  Court  in  high 
dudgeon,  after  writing  a  letter  to  the  Kaiser  in  which, 
it  is  said,  he  expressed  his  views  with  more  vigor  than 
diplomacy ;  not  hesitating  to  compare  the  Hohenzollerns 
to  their  detriment  with  his  own  high  and  mighty,  not  to 
say  much  older,  family. 

We  spent  our  days  pleasantly  in  visiting  the  palaces, 
galleries,  and  museums.  At  one  of  the  galleries  we  were 
much  interested  to  see  three  pictures  which  used  to  be 
at  Blenheim,  one  of  them  being  the  famous  "Bacchana- 
lia" by  Rubens,  which  had  filled  one  side  of  the  dining- 
room.  Sans  Souci  I  found  enchanting,  and  could  hardly 
tear  myself  away  from  its  lovely  rooms,  with  their  Louis 
XV  decorations  and  delicious  Watteaus.  How  strange 
that  those  two  grim  men,  Frederick  the  Great  and  Vol- 
taire, should  have  lived  in  such  incongruous  surround- 
ings !  Visions  of  beautiful  women  in  powder  and  patches 
could  alone  be  associated  with  these  boudoirs,  where  the 

249 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

panels,  adorned  with  silver  tracings,  and  the  soft-colored 
silk  curtains  would  have  made  a  fitting  background  for 
their  loveliness.  The  bedroom  so  long  occupied  by 
Voltaire,  with  its  priceless  Dresden  china,  and  hangings 
of  green  damask,  looked  like  a  nest  for  a  pink-and-white 
maid  of  honor.  One  note,  however,  gave  an  indication 
of  the  king's  mind  in  respect  to  the  guest  whom  he  hated 
and  feared  as  much  as  he  admired  him.  A  large,  grin- 
ning china  monkey  did  service  for  a  chandelier,  holding 
in  its  hands  the  candles  which  lighted  up  the  sardonic 
features  of  its  human  counterpart.  At  the  end  of  a  cul- 
de-sac  was  a  small,  round  room  of  which  the  only  outlet 
was  a  window  giving  on  to  the  garden.  With  books  to 
the  ceiling,  and  a  huge  writing-table  in  the  center,  this 
was  Frederick  the  Great's  sanctum.  Perhaps  it  was  on 
this  very  table  that  he  wrote  the  verses  he  was  so  anxious 
Voltaire  should  admire,  and  which  in  the  hands  of  the 
"Patriarch  of  Ferney"  became  the  weapon  with  which 
he  ridiculed  the  King  at  the  time  of  their  famous  quarrel. 
Among  the  many  festivities  to  which  we  were  bidden, 
was  a  gala  performance  at  the  opera.  A  gala  night 
under  the  auspices  of  the  German  Court  is  a  very  dif- 
ferent thing  from  the  same  function  in  London.  In 
Berlin  the  boxes  and  seats  are  not  sold,  and  only  those 
who  receive  a  royal  invitation  may  attend,  whereas  in 
London  it  is  a  case  of  the  longest  purse  and  the  highest 
bidder.  In  consequence,  the  audience  is  anything  but 
representative  of  London  society.  I  remember  being 
very  much  struck  by  the  wonderful  ensemble  and  per- 
fection of  the  orchestra,  far  surpassing  any  in  London 
of  those  days.  Sembrich  sang  in  "Les  Noces  de  Figaro," 
and  the  whole  royal  family  were  present,  including  the 

250 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

aged  Emperor  William  I.  The  prospect  of  a  state 
concert,  preceded  by  an  informal  Drawing-room,  at 
which  we  were  to  be  presented,  rather  alarmed  me,  not 
knowing  the  rules  and  etiquette  of  a  court  so  different 
from  any  I  had  yet  seen.  Also,  not  expecting  to  attend 
any  such  function,  I  had  no  court  train  with  me,  and  this 
added  to  my  embarrassment,  for  there  is  no  doubt  that 
to  be  well  dressed  gives  confidence.  In  the  end,  how- 
ever, it  all  proved  quite  simple. 

Etiquette  required  that  before  appearing  at  court  I 
should  visit  the  jNIistress  of  the  Robes.  I  therefore  called 
with  Lady  Ermyntrude  INIalet  on  Countess  Perponcher, 
a  rather  formidable  lady  with  an  1830  coiffure  and  a 
stiff,  rustling  silk  gown.  She  received  me  with  force 
reverences,  which  I  duly  returned.  On  the  night  of  the 
concert,  we  were  ushered  into  a  small  room  where  the 
Emperor  William  stood  surrounded  by  the  royal  family, 
the  officials  of  the  court,  and  the  diplomatic  corps,  and 
with  others  we  were  presented.  The  Emperor,  looking 
most  upright  in  his  smart  uniform,  welcomed  me  in  a 
few  well-chosen  words,  also  referring  to  our  tea-party 
at  Gastien  and  the  jokes  w^e  had  had  with  the  children. 
Little  did  I  or  any  one  else  present  think  that  this  was 
to  be  his  last  entertainment,  and  that  in  a  few  weeks  the 
kind  and  noble  old  monarch  would  be  no  more.  Sud- 
denly a  side  door  opened,  and  the  Empress  Augusta, 
sitting  in  a  small  bath-chair,  was  wheeled  in.  Dressed 
in  pale-blue  satin,  with  jewels  to  her  waist,  her  venerable 
head  crowned  with  a  magnificent  tiara,  she  made  a  brave, 
if  somewhat  pathetic  figure.  She  asked  me  many  ques- 
tions in  excellent  English,  addressing  me  as  "Lady 
Churchill"    and   inquiring   after   the    Czarina,    "whom 

251 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

she  understood  I  had  just  seen."  She  also  asked  so 
much  after  her  "dear  Queen  Victoria"  that  I  came  to 
the  conclusion  she  was  mistaking  me  for  Queen  Vic- 
toria's lady-in-waiting,  Jane,  Lady  Churchill.  Her  re- 
marks were  almost  inaudible,  and  I  had  to  answer  in  a 
very  loud  voice,  as  she  did  not  hear  well.  I  do  not 
recollect  ever  having  felt  more  embarrassed  or  uncom- 
fortable than  during  this  conversation  at  cross  purposes, 
carried  on  before  the  whole  court,  which  was  listening  in 
respectful  silence. 

Presently  we  all  moved  into  an  adjoining  room,  at 
the  end  of  which  was  a  small  platform.  Round  tables 
were  dotted  about,  the  places  being  arranged  before- 
hand. Randolph  sat  at  the  table  of  Princess  William 
(the  present  Kaiserin),  while  I  sat  at  Prince  William's. 
After  listening  to  an  excellent  concert,  at  which  Sem- 
brich  sang,  supper  was  served,  the  whole  function  being 
over  by  eleven  o'clock.  JNIuch  to  my  delight,  in  the 
course  of  the  evening  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  the 
great  Moltke,  who,  notwithstanding  his  stern  and  ascetic 
countenance,  surprised  me  agreeably  by  his  sunny  smile 
and  pleasant  voice. 

There  is  no  doubt  it  would  be  difficult  to  find  a  greater 
contrast  than  the  Russian  and  German  courts  presented 
at  that  time;  the  one,  brilliant,  imposing,  lavish  in  its 
extravagance,  barbaric  in  its  splendor ;  the  other,  unpre- 
tentious and,  perhaps,  a  little  dull,  but  full  of  traditions 
and  etiquette.  In  Berlin,  and  particularly  at  the  court, 
signs  of  the  all-conquering  and  victorious  army  were 
everywhere  apparent;  everything  military  was  in  the 
ascendant.  I  remember  Prince  William  visiting  me  at 
the  Embassy,  and  our  having  a  great  discussion  on 

252 


COL  N  1     \  O.N    MuL  1  KL. 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

German  and  Russian  uniforms,  the  gorgeousness  of 
which  had  impressed  me  while  in  St.  Petersburg. 

If  the  Court  of  the  Emperor  WilHam  I  was  somewhat 
depressing,  the  magnificence  of  the  existing  regime  is  a 
great  contrast.  WiUiam  II  rightly  wishes  to  main- 
tain a  proper  standard,  and  while  condemning  extrava- 
gance, likes  to  see  a  dignified  display.  It  has  been 
reported  that  he  once  said,  apropos  of'  his  court  balls, 
that  "men  came  for  discipline,  and  women  for  deport- 
ment." Permission  to  dance  is  given  only  by  royal 
order,  and  the  privileged  have  for  many  days  to  re- 
hearse the  intricate  steps  of  the  stately  minuets  pre- 
scribed. Woe  be  it  if  they  make  any  mistakes,  for  a 
dancing-master  sits  aloft  in  a  gallery  recording  the 
faux  pas  of  his  pupils.  This  may  sound  arbitrary, 
but  there  is  no  doubt  that  if  something  similar  could  be 
introduced  at  the  Court  of  St.  James  the  proceedings 
would  gain  in  dignity,  as  it  is  with  difficulty  that  the 
majority  of  people  can  go  through  an  ordinary  quad- 
rille. 

Before  leaving,  we  dined  one  night  with  Count  Her- 
bert Bismarck.  At  the  end  of  the  dinner  he  produced, 
as  a  bonne  houche,  a  sort  of  paste,  made  principally,  as 
far  as  I  could  gather,  of  lard  and  garlic,  of  which  he 
spoke  with  pride  as  having  been  made  by  his  mother. 
Count  Herbert  was  a  kindly  man,  and  although  to  Eng- 
lish ideas  he  may  perhaps  have  seemed  a  little  rough  and 
uncouth,  he  was  really  very  popular  in  England,  and 
left  many  friends  to  deplore  his  premature  death.  He 
was  greatly  interested  in  English  politics,  and  I  remem- 
ber that  at  this  dinner  he  had  an  argument  on  the  sub- 
ject of  ]VIr.  Gladstone,  whom  he  cordially  hated,  re- 

255 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

marking,  much  to  our  amusement,  that  his  father  always 
said  "Gladstone  would  drag  England  to  the  lowest 
ground  of  hell." 

Randolph  and  I  were  disappointed  in  not  seeing 
Prince  Bismarck,  who  was  then  in  the  country;  but 
some  years  later,  when  at  Kissengen,  we  were  fortunate 
enough  to  make  the  "Iron  Chancellor's"  acquaintance. 
We  dined  with  him  at  the  old  schloss  where  he  was  living, 
its  picturesque  red  roof  making  a  landmark  in  the  flat 
Bavarian  scenery.  We  were  only  a  party  of  six:  the 
Prince  and  Princess,  Count  Herbert  Bismarck  and  his 
wife  (who  was  of  English  origin),  and  ourselves.  We 
dined  in  a  large  room  which  had  a  vaulted  ceiling,  and 
seemed  to  be  used  as  a  general  living-room.  At  dinner 
I  sat  on  one  side  of  the  Prince,  and  Randolph  on  the 
other,  the  huge  boar  hound,  our  host's  constant  com- 
panion, lying  on  the  ground  between  us.  Conversation 
was  animated.  Bismarck  spoke  excellent  English,  but 
very  slowly ;  and  if  he  could  not  find  the  word  he  wanted, 
he  would  pause  and  think  until  he  did.  His  family 
looked  up  to  him  with  awe  and  admiration,  and  listened 
with  the  greatest  attention  to  every  word  he  uttered. 
The  old  Princess,  who  seemed  very  feeble,  did  not  take 
much  part  in  the  conversation.  After  dinner  we  ad- 
journed to  another  part  of  the  room,  where  we  sat  round 
a  long  table  covered  with  books  and  newspapers.  There 
were  a  great  many  illustrated  papers,  full  of  caricatures 
of  Bismarck,  which,  in  answer  to  a  question,  he  assured 
me  he  did  not  mind  in  the  least.  Later,  however,  Count 
Herbert  contradicted  this,  saying  that  his  father  was 
really  very  sensitive  and  disliked  being  caricatured. 

Speaking  of  the  country  and  the  long  walks  he  took 

256 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

daily,  Bismarck  said  he  loved  nature,  but  the  amount  of 
life  he  saw  awed  him,  and  that  it  took  a  great  deal  of 
faith  to  believe  that  an  "all-seeing  Eye"  could  notice 
every  living  atom  when  one  realized  what  that  meant. 
"Have  you  ever  sat  on  the  grass  and  examined  it 
closely?  There  is  enough  life  in  one  square  yard  to 
appal  you,"  he  said.  When  we  were  about  to  leave,  his 
great  dog  fixed  his  fierce  eyes  on  mine  in  so  persistent  a 
manner  that  I  became  alarmed  and  thought  he  was  go- 
ing to  spring  upon  me;  but  the  Prince  reassured  me, 
saying,  "He  is  looking  at  your  eyes,  because  he  has  not 
seen  any  like  them."  This  was  said  in  a  grave  voice  and 
without  a  smile,  leaving  it  doubtful  if  he  intended  to 
pay  me  a  compliment. 

Quitting  Berlin  with  much  regret  and  with  gratitude 
to  our  kind  hosts  the  Malets,  we  proceeded  to  Paris, 
where  we  remained  for  some  time.  Our  friend  the  Mar- 
quis de  Breteuil  helped  to  make  our  visit  delightful,  for 
at  his  charming  house,  where  we  often  dined,  we  met 
every  one  of  note  and  interest.  It  was  at  one  of  these 
dinners  that  I  saw  General  Boulanger  for  the  first  time. 
M.  de  Breteuil  was  a  believer  at  that  moment  in  Bou- 
langism,  and,  in  common  with  many  Royalists,  thought 
he  saw  in  the  General,  faute  de  mieuoc,  the  preserver 
of  the  French  monarchy,  through  a  Restoration  which 
was  to  follow  a  Republic  under  which  all  Frenchmen 
could  rally.  The  Duchesse  d'Uzes,  the  Comtesse  Greff- 
hule,  the  General,  Randolph  and  I,  made  up  the  party. 
The  duchess,  who  kept  a  pack  of  hounds  in  the  vicinity 
of  Paris,  and  hunted  the  stag  with  all  the  pomp  and 
picturesqueness  foreigners  display  in  matters  connected 
with  the  chase,  had,  it  appears,  been  hunting  that  day, 

257 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

and  in  consequence  arrived  late,  breathless,  and  some- 
what untidy,  but  covered  with  magnificent  jewels. 
Granddaughter  of  the  Veuve  Clicquot  of  champagne 
fame,  Mme.  d'Uzes  had  inherited  a  large  fortune, 
and  with  this  "fruit  of  the  vine"  was  able  to  regild  the 
shield  of  the  Due  d'Uzes,  who  bore  one  of  the  oldest 
names  of  France.  The  Duchess,  who  was  then  a  widow, 
had  espoused  the  cause  of  the  "hrav'  General"  with  all 
the  ardor  of  an  energetic  enthusiast,  and  she  emphasized 
her  support  by  giving  him  three  million  francs.  Mme. 
Greffhule,  who  was  a  Belgian  by  birth  and  came  of  the 
historic  house  of  Chimay,  had  a  European  reputation 
for  grace,  charm,  and  esthetic  tastes.  Although  she  was 
very  young,  her  salon  had  already  acquired  the  name 
for  artistic  and  literary  prominence  which  it  bears  to- 
day, and  people  were  eager  to  be  counted  among  its 
habitues. 

Boulanger,  notwithstanding  a  military  bearing,  a 
fierce  mustache,  and,  to  French  ideas,  a  handsome  face, 
gave  one  the  impression  of  a  man  not  quite  sure  of  him- 
self. At  that  moment  his  popularity  was  great,  and 
the  eyes  of  France — not  to  say  of  Europe — were  turned 
upon  him ;  yet  he  seemed  unable  to  rise  above  his  middle- 
class  origin  and  early  surroundings.  He  talked  little, 
and  preferred  answering  questions  to  putting  them. 
Later,  when  he  came  to  London  he  dined  with  us  several 
times,  but  even  on  better  acquaintance  his  diffidence  did 
not  vanish.  He  was  banal  in  conversation,  and  I  cannot 
recall  anything  of  interest  he  said  to  me.  As  the  Gen- 
eral had  no  political  mission  in  England,  the  Prince  of 
Wales  honored  us  with  his  company  on  one  of  these 
occasions.    Among  those   who  came,  besides   General 

258 


///ff^/f///r .  /f/^^//^.^ 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Boulanger  and  General  Dillon  who  accompanied  him, 
were  the  Duchess  of  Manchester  (now  the  Dowager 
Duchess  of  Devonshire),  Lady  Norreys,  Lord  Hard- 
wicke,  Lord  Hartington,  Sir  George  Lewis,  and  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Leopold  de  Rothschild,  who  got  into  great 
trouble  with  their  French  relatives  for  having  been 
there.  So  confident  of  success  were  Boulanger  and 
those  about  him  at  that  time,  that  General  Dillon,  who 
sat  next  to  Mrs.  de  Rothschild,  invited  her  in  the  Gen- 
eral's name  to  stay  at  the  Tuileries — "where  we  shall 
be  in  a  few  months,"  quoth  he. 

There  was  in  England  a  very  strong  opinion  against 
Boulanger,  and  we  were  much  taken  to  task  for  receiv- 
ing and  entertaining  him;  but  Randolph  was  rather 
fond  of  exotic  specimens  of  mankind,  and  liked  to  study 
them  without  regard  to  public  opinion.  Although  un- 
doubtedly a  brave  man  morally,  Boulanger  was  not  suf- 
ficiently courageous  to  risk  everything  for  a  cause  in 
which  he  undoubtedly  was,  as  he  perhaps  suspected,  a 
cat's-paw.  The  extraordinary  rise  and  popularity  of 
the  man  seems  incredible,  unless  one  takes  into  consid- 
eration not  only  the  French  character,  which  made  such 
delirious  enthusiasm  possible,  but  also  the  state  of 
France  at  that  time. 

Perhaps  it  will  not  come  amiss  here  to  recapitulate 
some  of  the  salient  points  of  this  strange  and  eventful 
career.  The  malcontents  of  every  shade  of  politics— 
Royalist  and  Bonapartist— each  thought  that  Boulan- 
ger, having  gained  the  confidence  of  the  masses,  would, 
once  Dictator  or  President,  pave  the  way  to  a  Royalist 
or  Bonapartist  monarchy.  Boulanger  himself  had  vast 
ambitions,  of  which,  it  appears,  he  showed  signs  when  a 

261 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

boy  at  college.  Although  a  good  officer,  he  had  not 
attained  his  rank  of  general  by  prominence  in  the  field, 
but,  according  to  his  enemies,  by  lobbying  for  many 
years  in  public  offices  and  anterooms.  Politically  he 
coquetted  with  all  parties,  and  it  was  probably  for  this 
reason  that  he  was  made  Minister  of  War  in  the  Frey- 
cinet  Government  of  1885,  as  he  was  on  fairly  good 
terms  with  both  Radicals  and  Moderates. 

It  was  while  he  was  in  the  Government  that  he  began 
to  show  his  true  colors,  and  some  of  his  Royalist  sup- 
porters fell  away  when  they  found  him  becoming  more 
radical  and  voting  with  the  advanced  party  for  the  exile 
of  the  Bourbon  Princes.  I  was  in  Paris  at  the  time  of 
the  publication  of  the  Due  d'Aumale's  letter  from  Bou- 
langer,  and  well  remember  the  great  sensation  it  made. 
It  revealed  the  fulsomeness  of  the  court  he  paid  to  the 
Duke,  to  whom  he  owed  his  rank  of  general,  and  his 
ingratitude  in  joining  those  concerned  in  voting  for  a 
cruel  and  unnecessary  law  against  harmless  princes,  not 
to  say  French  citizens.  Notwithstanding  this  revela- 
tion of  his  character,  his  prestige,  shortly  after  the  Fete 
Nationale  on  the  14th  of  July,  seemed  untarnished,  and 
M.  de  Breteuil,  in  writing  to  me,  said  at  that  time, 
"Son  etoile  est  plus  hrillante  que  jamais"  Like  a 
comet,  Boulanger  traversed  the  skies,  "an  empty-headed 
thing  with  a  fiery  tail,"  which,  to  continue  the  simile, 
fell  to  earth  in  the  flash  of  a  pistol  report  on  the  tomb 
of  his  one  true  friend.  Marguerite  Bonnemain. 

Like  Parnell,  Boulanger,  ambitious  as  some  may  have 
thought  him,  put  the  love  of  woman  above  that  of  power. 
All  his  thoughts  were  centered  in  and  controlled  by  her 
who  was  the  mainspring  of  his  life.  After  the  'plebiscite 

262 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

of  February,  1889,  he  had  a  majority  of  70,000  votes 
in  Paris  alone,  and  his  popularity  rose  to  fever  heat ;  but 
instead  of  going  straight  to  the  Elysee,  where  he  might 
have  challenged  his  fate  and,  who  knows?  been  acclaimed 
President,  he  rushed  off  to  Mme.  Bonnemain's  house, 
and  could  not  be  found.  This  was  the  turning-point  in 
his  career.  He  disgusted  his  followers  and  those  who 
believed  in  him ;  and  the  opportunity  never  returned. 

Randolph,  writing  to  me  from  Paris,  February  5, 
1889,  said: 

.  .  .  Boulanger  does  not  seem  to  me  to  have  made  as  much 
out  of  his  victory  as  he  ought.  If  he  does  not  do  something 
soon,  the  effect  of  it  will  be  forgotten. 


And  again  in  September: 

It  is  evidently  all  up  with  Boulanger.  I  suppose  we  shall 
have  him  now  en  permanence  in  London.  People  won't  run  after 
him  quite  so  much. 

Life  in  Paris  was  most  attractive.  I  sought  out  all 
my  old  friends,  and  made  many  new  ones.  Society  was 
then,  as  it  is  now,  very  cosmopolitan,  but  it  was  rein- 
forced by  a  certain  section  of  the  "Noble  Faubourg" 
who  were  not  averse  to  being  entertained  by  the  foreign 
element.  They  did  not  feel  it  compromising  to  meet 
their  own  compatriots,  were  they  Bonapartists  or  Re- 
publicans, on  such  neutral  grounds.  A  number  of 
Mexicans,  Peruvians,  Chilians,  etc.— ''rastaquoneres" 
as  they  were  dubbed, — were  much  to  the  fore;  and  as 
they  seemed  to  have  millions,  and  entertained  lavishly, 

263 


REMINISCENCES  O^ 

the  gay  j^'oung  Parisians  flocked  to  their  houses  en  inasse. 
Exclusiveness  is  so  much  a  thing  of  the  past  that  one  is 
astonished  nowadays  to  meet  it,  individual  merit  being 
far  more  an  open  sesame  to  society  than  formerly. 
Those  who  travel  and  mix  perforce  with  their  fellow- 
creatures  forget  that  people  still  exist  in  this  world  who 
cannot  understand  or  tolerate  anything  or  anybody  be- 
yond their  immediate  entourage.  Is  it  to  be  wondered 
at  that  these  people  become  narrow-minded,  prejudiced, 
and  self -centered?  Personally  I  feel  my  acquaintance 
can  never  be  too  large.  When  I  reflect  that  there  are 
thousands  of  delightful  and  interesting  people  one  may 
be  missing,  no  opportunity  ought  to  be  lost  of  cultivat- 
ing as  many  as  possible.  Friends  are  in  another  cate- 
gory. Time  alone  can  prove  friendships.  The  friends 
who  stand  by  you  through  all  vicissitudes  are  more  pre- 
cious and  rare  than  "les  amis  des  beaux  jours  J"  To  lose 
one  of  them  is  indeed  a  calamity.  To  find  a  cold  heart 
where  you  were  certain  of  a  warm  one,  to  find  mistrust 
and  indifference  where  you  hoped  for  trust  and  faith, 
is  the  greatest  of  disillusions  and  the  saddest.  "La 
lampe  de  Vamitie  a  hesoin  d'huile,"  but  if  the  lamp  is 
faulty,  no  amount  of  oil  will  keep  it  alight. 

Speaking  of  exclusiveness,  I  am  reminded  of  an 
amusing  illustration  of  it  which  I  came  across  in  Paris. 
Having  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  Duchesse  de  la 
Tremoille,  we  dined  with  her  one  night.  The  Duke,  who 
belongs  to  one  of  the  oldest  families  in  France,  and  owns 
Serrant,  a  sixteenth-century  chateau  on  the  Loire,  also 
possesses  a  charming  house  in  the  Avenue  Gabriel.  Be- 
fore leaving  for  England,  I  went  to  call  on  the  Duchess 
and  asked  if  she  was  at  home.    Hearing  that  she  was, 

264 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

I  walked  through  the  courtyard  to  the  front  door, 
where,  to  my  surprise,  notwithstanding  a  bell  announc- 
ing my  arrival,  no  one  came  forward  to  meet  me.  I 
waited;  still  no  one.  There  were  two  doors.  I  chose 
one,  and  found  myself  at  the  foot  of  a  large  staircase 
embellished  with  palms  and  statues.  Making  my  way 
up,  I  saw  a  suite  of  three  or  four  rooms.  In  vain  I 
waited  for  a  footman  or  some  one  to  announce  me.  At 
last  dimly  perceiving  a  figure  at  the  far  end,  I  went 
toward  it,  and  found  the  Duchess,  who  expressed  her 
surprise  that  I  had  taken  so  long  to  appear.  Presently 
the  timbre  sounded  again;  this  time  it  was  the  Grand 
Duke  Vladimir  of  Russia  who  arrived  unannounced.  It 
was  amusing  to  see  the  man  before  whom  Russia  trem- 
bles dropping  on  one  knee  with  mock  solemnity,  kissing 
the  Duchess's  hand,  and  thanking  her  in  exaggerated 
language  for  some  "divine  turkeys"  she  had  sent  him. 
More  visitors  appearing,  I  departed,  finding  my  way 
out  as  I  had  come.  Having  heard  that  the  Duchess  was 
supposed  to  be  very  exclusive,  I  confess  I  thought  this 
a  free-and-easy  way  of  receiving,  and  said  as  much  to  a 
Frenchman.  "You  don't  understand,"  he  said.  "Dur- 
ing certain  months  of  the  year  the  Duchess  receives  her 
own  particular  coterie  of  intimate  friends  every  day 
from  four  to  six.  They  know  they  are  sure  to  find  her 
and  be  welcome.  As  habitues  there  is  no  need  for  them 
to  be  announced,  and  the  appearance  of  servants  would 
detract  from  the  delightful  sans  gene  and  intimacy  of 
the  visit."  "But  what  about  the  casual  caller,  or  possi- 
bly an  unwelcome  visitor?"  "Oh,"  replied  my  friend, 
"none  of  these  would  dream  of  asking  if  Madame  la 
Duchesse  was  at  home  unless  they  were  on  her  particular 

265 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

list."  This  explanation  somewhat  disturbed  me,  and  I 
felt  myself,  for  the  nonce,  a  trespasser. 

M.  de  Breteuil  would  sometimes,  for  our  delectation, 
invite  strange  people  to  meet  us.  Among  them  was  a 
certain  M.  de  Meyrenna,  a  young  and  good-looking 
man,  who  interested  and  amused  us  for  a  whole  evening 
by  relating  the  adventures  of  his  extraordinary  and 
thrilling  life.  He  had  a  few  months  previously  been 
proclaimed  King  of  the  Sedangs  (a  tribe  somewhere  in 
Indo-China)  and  called  himself  "Marie  I."  Although 
in  a  wild  and  distant  country,  his  subjects  did  exist, 
which  is  more  than  can  be  said  for  the  "Emperor  of 
Sahara,"  a  would-be  monarch  of  the  same  type.  Marie 
I  invited  me  to  pay  him  a  visit.  I  was  to  be  met  by  a 
caravan  with  elephants  and  camels  and  escorted  to  his 
capital,  where  he  promised  I  should  be  treated  royally. 
I  believe  he  died  a  year  or  two  later,  an  adventurer  to 
the  last. 

Another  eccentric  person  was  King  Milan,  father  of 
Alexander  late  King  of  Servia,  who,  with  his  wife 
Draga,  was  treacherously  murdered  by  his  subjects. 
When  I  first  met  Milan  in  Paris  he  had  just  abdicated 
in  favor  of  his  son  after  a  fierce  quarrel  with  his  wife, 
Natalie,  a  Princess  of  Stourdza.  He  certainly  was  one 
of  the  most  uncivilized  beings  I  have  ever  encountered. 
A  short,  thick-set  man  with  inky  black  hair  and  mus- 
tache, of  little  or  no  education  save  what  his  natural 
intelligence  helped  him  to  pick  up,  he  was  notwithstand- 
ing an  agreeable  personality.  Later  he  came  to  London, 
where  he  was  not  persona  grata  either  at  the  Eng- 
lish Court  or  in  general  society,  into  which,  however,  he 
never  attempted  to  penetrate.     I  remember  once  at  a 

266 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

small  dinner  party  he  was  induced  to  describe  his  early 
life  before  he  became,  in  18G8,  Prince  of  Servia  on  the 
assassination  of  his  cousin  Michael.  Up  to  that  time, 
barefoot  and  clad  in  rags,  he  had  lived  the  life  of  a  goat- 
herd in  the  mountains,  where  he  often  went  without 
food,  sleeping  in  caverns.  In  relating  these  past  expe- 
riences, his  encounters  with  wild  beasts,  and  narrow  es- 
capes from  those  who  for  their  own  ends  wanted  his  life, 
he  became  so  excited  that,  suddenly  forgetting  he  was 
not  in  his  native  wilds,  he  began  to  eat  with  his  fingers, 
tearing  the  meat  on  his  plate.  His  life  on  the  whole 
was  a  sad  one,  and  he  really  deserved  something  better, 
although  totally  unfitted  by  his  early  bringing  up  to 
govern  any  country,  far  less  a  semibarbaric  one  like 
Servia.  I  dined  with  him  again,  this  time  at  the  Amphi- 
tryon, a  restaurant  which  was  half  a  club,  and  was  much 
in  vogue  in  London  at  the  moment.  We  were  a  party 
of  eight  or  ten.  In  a  private  room,  the  walls  of  which 
were  entirely  covered  with  orchids,  we  had  a  most  fan- 
tastic repast.  Although  nightingales'  tongues  and  pea- 
cocks' brains  did  not  figure  on  the  menu,  I  have  no 
doubt  the  bill  was  equally  extravagant,  for  Milan  had 
absolutely  no  sense  of  the  value  of  money.  A  few 
months  later  he  went  back  to  Servia,  whether  in  the 
hope  of  helping  his  son  or  to  intrigue  against  him  I  do 
not  know.  Disgusted  at  Alexander's  marriage,  which 
took  place  shortly  after  his  arrival,  with  Mme.  Draga 
Maschin,  who  had  been  lady-in-waiting  to  Queen 
Natalie,  Milan  left  Servia  in  haste,  never  to  return. 
Writing  to  me  from  some  Austrian  Baths,  he  poured 
forth  his  troubles  in  his  impulsive  manner : 


18 


269 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

Chere  Madame  : 

Depuis  longtemps  j'ai  voulu  vous  ecrlre.  Cette  lettre  vous 
parviendra-t-elle  ?  Je  ne  le  saurai  que  si  vous  voulez  bien  me 
repondre  deux  mots  pour  me  dire  que  vous  I'avez  re9ue.  Je  n'ai 
rien  de  bon  a  vous  dire  sur  mon  compte.  Apres  m'etre  devoue 
corps  et  ame  a  mon  fils,  il  m'a  j  oue  le  tour  d'epouser  une  per- 
sonne  plus  qu'  impossible  et  ayant  quatorze  ans  de  plus  que  lui 
au  grand  scandale  du  pays  et  de  I'Europe  entiere. 

Je  n'ai  pas  voulu  accepter  cette  situation,  et  me  revoila  de  par 
les  grands  chemins  sans  savoir  ce  que  je  ferai.  Pardon  si  je 
vous  parle  de  ces  choses,  mais  dans  mes  vieux  jours,  et  avec  mes 
cheveux  plus  que  poivre  et  sel,  c'est  dur.  J'ai  mieux  merite  que 
cela. 

Milan. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  incidents  in  Paris  in  1889 
was  the  great  Secretan  sale,  which  took  place  in  July. 
Among  the  art  collectors  and  connoisseurs  who  flocked 
to  it  was  H.  R.  H.  the  Due  d'Aumale.  His  vast  know- 
ledge and  exquisite  taste  made  all  who  knew  him  de- 
sirous of  obtaining  his  opinions.  The  catalogue,  which 
consisted  of  two  large  volumes,  was  admirably  got  up, 
and  so  largely  sought  for  that,  much  to  my  chagrin,  I 
was  unable  to  procure  a  copy.  The  Due  d'Aumale, 
hearing  of  this,  presented  me  with  one  of  his,  writing  in 
it  a  charming  inscription.  These  books,  beautifully 
bound,  are  among  the  treasures  of  my  library. 

The  duke,  with  his  military  prestige  and  martial 
bearing,  was  besides  a  man  of  great  culture,  and  fitly- 
described  as  "un  gentilhomme  au  bout  des  ongles"  He 
was,  moreover,  an  ardent  sportsman,  and  the  magnifi- 
cent Chateau  of  Chantilly  which  he  presented  in  1886  to 
the  Institut  de  France  is  filled  with  his  hunting  trophies. 

270 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

During  his  exile  in  England,  I  remember  dining  with 
him  at  his  house  in  Rutland  Gate,  and  being  im- 
pressed by  his  charming  and  gentle  manner.  He  talked 
much  about  France,  and  his  love  for  his  country  seemed 
in  no  way  impaired  by  the  cruel  measure  which  had  been 
passed  against  him  by  his  own  countrymen. 

One  of  the  houses  I  frequented  in  Paris  was  that  of 
Mrs.  Ferdinand  Bischoffsheim,  a  clever  and  beautiful 
American  who  died  a  few  years  ago.  She  had  a  salon 
in  Paris  which  was  quite  literary.  It  was  there  that  I 
first  met  ]VI.  Bourget,  then  unmarried,  and  began  a 
friendship  which  has  lasted  unimpaired  to  this  day.  He 
had  just  written  "Mensonges,"  which  added  greatly  to 
his  reputation  as  a  novelist,  althougli  it  was  freely  criti- 
cized. An  animated  and  amusing  correspondence  was 
being  carried  on  in  the  press,  mainly  by  the  fair  sex,  who 
were  irate  at  his  description  of  a  mondaine,  his  heroine. 
I  recollect  his  being  chaffed  by  a  compatriot,  who  asked 
him  why  he  did  not  depict  a  real  woman  of  the  world  in 
his  books?  Bourget,  who  thought  he  had  accurately 
done  so,  was  naturally  annoyed  but,  unlike  most 
Frenchmen,  he  could  stand  chaff.  Perhaps  his  long  stay 
in  England  had  inured  him  to  it.  Now,  one  of  the  Forty 
Immortals,  wearing  ''les  jjahnes  acadcmiqucs,"  and 
happily  married  to  a  most  attractive  and  talented 
woman,  his  books  are  more  serious;  but  to  me  the  de- 
lightful "Sensations  d'Oxford,"  which  he  wrote  years 
ago,  and  which  for  literary  style  and  charm  of  descrip- 
tion he  has  in  my  estimation  never  surpassed,  is  quite 
staid  enough.  We  often  discussed  his  literary  projects, 
and  I  have  many  pleasant  letters  from  him,  from  which 
I  quote  at  random  the  following : 

271 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

.  .  .  Ma  vie  a  moi  est  attristee  par  la  difficulte  d'ecrire 
"Une  Idyllo  Tragique."  C'est  un  beau  sujet  sur  lequel  je 
dcvrais  vous  ecrire  vingt  pages.  Avec  de  la  patience  j'en  vien- 
drai  a  bout — mais  c'est  terriblement  dur.  Arrive  a  un  certain 
point  de  la  vie,  on  en  sait  trop,  on  veut  trop  mettre,  et  on  ne 
peut  pas  dire  ce  que  I'on  a  a  dire.  .  .  .  Savez  vous  que  Tour- 
gueniew  a  resume  le  dernier  mot  de  tout  quand  il  a  dit  "La  vie 
est  une  affaire  brutale.'* 


272 


CHAPTER  XII 

LORD  Randolph's  candidature  for  Birmingham— 

SALONS— BAYREUTH  —  MUSICAL  CELEBRITIES 

AT  this  period  (1889)  Lord  Randolph  Churchill's 
/%  interest  in  politics  was  as  great  as  ever,  al- 
^  J^  though  he  was  out  of  office,  and  he  then  made 
some  of  his  best  speeches.  His  followers  in  Birming- 
ham had  never  ceased  working  on  his  behalf  since  he 
had  stood  for  the  constituency  in  188.5,  and  at  the  death 
of  John  Bright  their  greatest  desire  was  that  he  should 
represent  them  in  Parliament.  Randolph  himself  was 
very  keen  about  it,  and  would  probably  have  won  the 
seat  in  time  had  he  not  listened  to  the  over-scrupulous 
advice  of  the  Unionist  Party.  Great  were  the  pour- 
parlers and  controversies  in  their  councils  as  to  whether 
he  ought  or  ought  not  to  stand.  The  decision  was  finally 
left  in  the  hands  of  Lord  Hartington  and  INIr.  Chamber- 
lain, who,  very  naturally  from  their  point  of  view,  per- 
suaded him  to  withdraw  his  candidature. 

It  was  a  great  blow  to  his  friends  and  supporters  in 
Birmingham,  who  felt  that  they  had  been  offered  up 
on  the  altar  of  INIr.  Chamberlain's  ambitions.  Bearing 
in  mind  the  political  campaign  of  1885,  and  the  hard 
work  in  which  I  had  taken  part  and  which  now  seemed 

273 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

a  waste  of  time  and  energy,  I  felt  very  incensed.  On 
the  day  when  Randolph  returned  from  the  House  of 
Commons  and  informed  me  of  the  pressure  brought  to 
bear  on  him,  and  how  he  had  given  in,  I  accused  him  of 
showing  the  white  feather  for  the  first  time  in  his  life. 
He  had,  he  said,  "made  up  his  mind  to  abide  by  the 
opinion  of  the  leaders  of  the  'Party.'  "  "But  not  when 
those  leaders  are  your  political  enemies,"  I  cried.  Argu- 
ments, however,  were  useless.  If  he  was  right,  he  got 
no  thanks  for  it,  and  a  great  opportunity  was  lost  for 
him  to  show  his  strength  and  power. 

After  Randolph  left  the  Government,  our  relations 
with  Lord  and  Lady  Salisbury  became  gradually  more 
and  more  strained.  Outward  appearances  were  kept 
up,  such  as  our  still  being  invited  to  the  political  parties 
given  in  Arlington  Street,  but  all  real  cordiality  ceased. 
Mutual  friends,  indeed,  tried  to  bring  about  a  rap- 
prochementj  and  eventually  we  were  asked  to  dine. 
Much  against  his  inclination  Randolph  was  persuaded 
to  accept.  The  dinner,  which  was  a  large  one,  was  a 
fiasco  so  far  as  the  object  of  our  being  there  was  con- 
cerned, for  beyond  a  bare  greeting  neither  Lord  nor 
Lady  Salisbury  exchanged  a  word  with  Randolph. 
This  he  resented  very  much,  and  regretted  having  gone. 
I  do  not  think  this  was  intended  as  a  slight,  for  shortly 
afterward  I  received  the  following  letter  from  Lady 
Salisbury: 

April  24,  Hatfield  House, 

Hatfield. 
My  dear  Lady  Randolph  : 

Will  you  and  Lord  Randolph  come  here  to  dine  and  sleep  on 
Sunday  the  22d,  and  help  us  to  receive  the  Irish  delegates  on 

274 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Monday?  We  shall  be  much  pleased  if  you  will  come.  No 
Sunday  trains  are  good,  but  the  best  leave  Kings  Cross  at  1  p.m. 
or  6.30  P.M.    We  will  meet  either. 

Yours  very  truly, 

G.  Salisbury. 


There  was  to  be  a  garden  party  on  the  Monday  at 
which  political  speeches  were  to  be  made,  Mr.  Cham- 
berlain and  Randolph  being  advertised  as  the  principal 
speakers.  Great  was  to  be  the  gathering  of  Unionists, 
and  a  solid  front  was  much  desired.  At  the  last  mo- 
ment, however,  Randolph  flatly  refused  to  go.  No 
arguments  moved  him;  he  insisted  that  I  should  keep 
the  engagement  alone.  As  I  drove  up  to  the  historic 
Elizabethan  house,  an  ideal  residence  for  the  Prime 
Minister  of  England,  my  feelings  were  anything  but 
enviable.  I  shall  never  forget  the  look  of  blank  dismay 
and  the  ominous  silence  with  which  my  feeble  excuses 
for  Randolph's  absence  were  greeted.  That  night  at 
dinner  in  the  splendid  banqueting-hall,  I  sat  next  to 
Lord  Salisbury.  Courteous  as  ever,  he  talked  pleasantly 
to  me,  but  made  no  allusion  to  the  subject  uppermost  in 
my  mind.  The  next  day  was  fine,  and  masses  of  people 
brought  by  special  trains  from  London  filled  the  beau- 
tiful gardens,  crowding  round  the  various  speakers. 
Cries  for  Randolph  were  heard  on  every  side,  many  had 
come  expressly  to  hear  him,  and  bitter  was  the  disap- 
pointment when  they  realized  that  he  was  not  there.  No 
adequate  reason  could  be  given  for  his  absence,  and  the 
"rift  within  the  lute"  was  made  more  apparent  than 
ever.    I  confess  I  was  very  glad  when  I  could  slip  away, 

277 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

for  rarely  had  I  felt  so  uncomfortable  or  experienced 
anything  more  disagreeable. 

London  rejoiced  that  year  in  Jubilee  functions  and 
was  very  animated.  A  diversion  was  created  by  the 
arrival  of  the  Shah  of  Persia,  Nasr-ed-din,  whose  vaga- 
ries kept  society  amused  and  interested.  A  real  barba- 
rian, it  was  with  difficulty  that  he  was  induced  to 
conform  to  Western  habits.  Many  were  the  stories 
circulated  about  him.  One  night  at  a  banquet  at  Buck- 
ingham Palace,  he  was  asked  to  give  his  arm  to  the  late 
Queen  Victoria.  He  refused,  having  made  up  his  mind 
to  take  in  a  lady  whose  voluminous  proportions  had 
attracted  his  attention.  Much  pressure  had  to  be 
brought  to  bear  before  he  was  prevailed  upon  to  change 
his  mind.  With  reluctance  and  a  cross  face,  he  dragged 
the  Queen  along  as  he  strode  into  the  dining-room. 

Another  night  at  the  opera  he  sat  with  a  glum  coun- 
tenance, evidently  much  bored,  to  the  despair  of  his 
suite,  until  the  orchestra  during  the  entr'  acte  began  to 
tune  their  instnmients.  At  these  discordant  sounds  the 
Persian  monarch  brightened  up,  and  asked  for  an  en- 
core, applauding  vigorously.  At  one  of  the  Court  balls 
at  which  the  Shah  was  present  we  were  commanded, 
much  to  Randolph's  and  my  embarrassment,  and  the 
annoyance  of  the  Lord  Chamberlain  (as  it  was  against 
all  royal  etiquette ) ,  to  go  to  the  dais  and  be  presented  to 
his  Majesty.  Sir  Henry  Wolff,  who  was  then  Ambas- 
sador at  Teheran,  had  often  spoken  to  him  about 
Randolph;  hence,  I  suppose,  his  desire  to  know  him. 
Muttering  something  which  sounded  like  "Lady 
Churchillias,"  he  grasped  my  hand  with  terrific  force, 
and  then  with  a  peremptory  gesture,  waved  me  away 

278 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

to  make  room  for  Randolph,  who  no  more  than  I  under- 
stood one  word  uttered  by  the  fierce  old  man.  As  I 
went  down  the  two  or  three  steps  of  the  dais  feeling 
miserably  self-conscious,  the  Prince  of  Wales  with  his 
usual  kindness  came  forward  and  shook  hands,  saying, 
"This  presentation  is  contrary  to  all  precedent,  but  the 
Shah  insisted,"  and  added  laughingly,  "You  had  better 
go  quickly  as  I  see  you  are  getting  black  looks  from  the 
Duchesses'  bench." 

Strangers  came  to  London  in  numbers  that  season, 
attracted  by  the  unwonted  sights  and  festivities.  I  met 
many  at  Lady  de  Grey's,  she  having  always  been  one 
of  the  most  cosmopolitan  of  hostesses.  Her  well-known 
artistic  and  musical  appreciation  made  her  house  then, 
as  now,  the  rendezvous  of  all  the  gifted  artists  and  intel- 
lectual foreigners  who  come  to  London.  She  is  indeed 
the  Mecca  they  journey  to,  and  many  of  the  former  owe 
their  success  to  her  timely  aid  and  good  counsels. 
Given,  in  addition  to  personal  charm  and  beauty,  a  thor- 
ough knowledge  of  the  world  and  of  the  difficult  art  of 
receiving,  it  is  not  surprising  that  invitations  are  highly 
prized  to  her  small  but  delightful  entertainments. 

Taking  into  consideration  the  abnormal  size  of  Lon- 
don society  as  it  is  at  present,  to  be  a  popular  hostess 
is  no  easy  matter.  As  for  "salons"— they  were  nearly 
extinct  twenty  years  ago.  It  is  obvious  that  none  is 
possible  without  selection,  and  this  naturally  leads  to 
the  exclusion  of  all  who  do  not  possess  wit  or  talent. 
The  passport  to  the  famous  Parisian  salons  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  those  of  Mme.  du  Deffand,  Mme. 
Geoffrin,  Mile,  de  Lespinasse  and  others,  consisted 
in  brains;  no  other  credential  was  necessary.     If  the 

279 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

rooms  of  these  celebrated  women  were  crowded,  it  was 
with  the  genius  and  talent  of  Europe,  and  the  new- 
comer was  only  admitted  after  searching  inquiry;  to 
be  elected  was  in  itself  a  guarantee  of  excellence,  and 
was  as  eagerly  sought  for  as  Academic  honors.  Con- 
versation roamed  over  a  vast  range  of  subjects,  from 
framing  a  new  policy  for  the  Government  to  the  latest 
sonnet  or  spiciest  new  scandal,  and  on  the  decision  of 
these  arbiters  of  merit  success  depended.  How  remote 
seem  these  brilliant  causeries  from  the  caravanserais  of 
the  "Mrs.  Leo  Hunters"  of  to-day,  where  crowds  jostle 
each  other  on  the  staircase,  often  not  getting  any 
further,  and  where  bridge  replaces  conversation.  Hap- 
pily there  are  exceptions,  and  now  as  then  it  is  possible 
to  find  people  who  like  something  better.  At  a  particu- 
larly pleasant  luncheon-party,  given  by  Lady  de  Grey, 
I  remember  once  meeting,  among  others,  M.  Jules 
Claretie  of  the  Francais,  Mile.  Bartet  the  gifted  actress. 
Lord  Ribblesdale  and  Mr.  Oscar  Wilde— than  whom  a 
more  brilliant  talker  did  not  exist,  that  is  when  he  was 
in  the  mood  for  it.  An  argument  arose  between  him  and 
Lord  Ribblesdale  on  after-dinner  speeches,  Mr.  Wilde 
declaring  that  there  was  no  subject  on  which  he  could 
not  speak  at  a  moment's  notice.  Taking  him  at  his 
word  Lord  Ribblesdale,  holding  up  his  glass,  said  "The 
Queen."  "She  is  not  a  subject,"  answered  Wilde,  as 
quick  as  lightning.  Once,  having  been  accused  of  mis- 
quoting from  "The  Importance  of  Being  Earnest,"  I 
appealed  to  Mr.  Wilde,  telling  him  I  had  made  a  bet 
on  my  accuracy,  and  that  if  I  found  I  was  right,  he 
should  receive  from  me  a  beautiful  pen-holder.  This 
was  his  answer : 

280 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

The  Cottage, 

Goring-on-Thames. 
Dear  Lady  Randolph, 

"The  only  difference  between  the  saint  and  the  sinner  is  that 
every  saint  has  a  past  and  that  every  sinner  has  a  future." 
That,  of  course,  is  the  quotation.  How  dull  men  are !  They 
should  listen  to  brilliant  women,  and  look  at  beautiful  ones — 
and  when,  as  in  the  present  case,  a  woman  is  both  beautiful  and 
brilliant  they  might  have  the  ordinary  common  sense  to  admit 
that  she  is  verbally  inspired. 

I  trust  your  bet  will  be  promptly  paid,  as  I  want  to  begin 
writing  my  new  comedy,  and  have  no  pen ! 

Believe  me, 

Yours  sincerely, 

Oscar  Wilde. 

As  I  had  won,  the  pen  was  duly  sent  him. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  I  made  the  acquaintance 
of  two  financiers  who  had  come  prominently  to  the 
front.  One  was  Colonel  North,  the  "Nitrate  King,"  as 
he  was  called,  and  the  other  Baron  Hirsch,  who  ended 
by  making  many  friends  in  England.  Colonel  North 
was  what  might  be  called  a  "rough  diamond."  He  had 
a  large  place  near  London,  which  was  furnished  regard- 
less of  expense,  where  he  kept  open  house  and  enter- 
tained in  a  most  lavish  manner  the  hordes  of  hangers-on 
and  sycophants  by  whom— like  all  rich  men  of  that  type 
—he  was  invariably  surrounded.  Dining  with  us  once 
I  was  much  amused  at  the  description  he  gave  me  of  his 
picture  gallery.  That  very  day  he  had  bought  a  "grand 
picture"  for  which  he  had  given  the  large  sum  of  £8000. 

283 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

I  asked  who  it  was  by ;  that  he  could  not  remember,  nor 
even  the  subject.  "But,"  he  added,  "it  is  twelve  feet  by 
eight!"    He  was  a  kindly  man,  and  very  charitable. 

Baron  Hirsch,  whose  generosity  to  his  co-religionists 
will  long  preserve  his  name,  was  one  of  the  few  million- 
aires I  have  met  who  knew  thoroughly  how  to  enjoy 
himself.  He  had  the  real  "joie  de  vivre"  and  delighted 
in  seeing  people  amusing  themselves.  His  shooting- 
parties  in  England  and  in  Austria  were  most  pleasant. 
No  mean  sportsman  himself,  he  had  the  knack  of  getting 
together  congenial  people  and  the  best  of  shots.  On  one 
occasion  at  his  place,  St.  Johann  (in  Hungary),  when 
the  Prince  of  Wales,  Lord  de  Grey,  Mr.  H.  Stoner  and 
Lord  Ashburton  were  of  the  party,  the  total  bag  of 
partridges  for  one  day  reached  3000.  Life  at  St. 
Johann  was  simple  and  healthy.  Shortly  after  breakfast 
eight  or  ten  victorias  would  appear  at  the  door,  the  horses 
in  gay  harness  and  the  postilions  in  hussar-like  blue 
jackets,  Hessian  boots  and  shiny,  high -crowned  hats. 
We  would  then  drive  to  the  rendezvous  where  an  army 
of  beaters — six  hundred  or  more — were  waiting. 
Drawn  up  in  line,  we  started  off  at  the  sound  of  a  bugle 
and  the  cry  of  VorwdrtSj  and  then  advancing,  still  in 
line,  walked  for  miles  over  the  sanded  plains,  dotted 
about  with  tufts  of  stubble  which  afforded  cover  for  the 
enormous  blue  hares  common  in  that  part  of  the  country. 
Now  and  then  we  came  across  woods  in  which  roe -deer, 
blackcock  and  pheasants  abounded.  Luncheon  took 
place  out  of  doors,  in  all  weather.  Some  days  only  part- 
ridges would  be  driven.  I  remember  once  laughing 
heartily  at  a  shooter  in  whose  butt  I  was.  As  the  huge 
coveys  flew  over  him  seemingly  from  every  point  of  the 

284 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

compass,  he  kept  calling  out  to  them  in  his  excitement, 
"For  Heaven's  sake,  stop!    Oh,  do  wait  one  moment!" 

On  my  way  back  from  one  of  these  parties  I  stopped 
in  Vienna  for  a  few  days.  The  late  Colonel  Kodolitch, 
who  was  very  well  known  in  London,  invited  me  to  go  and 
see  his  Hungarian  regiment.  He  procured  me  a  charger 
of  sorts  and  on  this  prancing  steed  I  galloped  down 
the  line  with  him,  afterward  witnessing  the  different 
manoeuvers,  and  the  charging  en  masse  of  hurdles  and 
fences,  a  very  pretty  and  unusual  sight.  As  I  was  leav- 
ing, escorted  to  the  station  by  Colonel  Kodolitch  and 
some  of  his  officers,  he  said  to  me,  "Please  say  Ich  danke 
sehr  to  the  officers."  This  I  did,  much  to  their  amuse- 
ment, as  I  found  later  it  was  the  customary  remark  of  a 
general  after  inspecting  a  regiment.  I  was  much  chaffed 
over  the  joke  perpetrated  on  me. 

Once  in  passing  through  Paris,  I  had  a  strange  and 
unpleasant  experience.  I  was  going  by  the  midday 
train,  and  happened  to  be  standing  in  one  of  the  arch- 
ways in  the  Gare  du  Nord,  which  presented  its  usual 
busy  and  animated  scene,  when  I  suddenly  heard  a 
shot  fired,  followed  by  two  or  three  more  in  rapid  suc- 
cession, and  a  man  with  his  hand  to  his  hip  and  an 
agonized  expression  on  his  face,  ran,  or  rather  hobbled, 
past  me  from  behind  one  of  the  pillars  of  the  archway. 
He  was  closely  followed  by  another  man  who  held  a 
revolver,  which  he  again  fired  off,  this  time  so  close 
to  me  that  I  fled  in  terror,  seeing,  as  I  ran,  the  victim 
fall  to  the  ground,  the  murderer  still  firing  at  him. 
A  large  crowd,  which  had  scattered  in  every  direction 
at  the  first  shots,  now  rushed  to  the  spot.  INIean- 
while,  fearing  that  the  man  was  running  amuck  and 

285 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

that  I  might  be  the  next  recipient  of  his  wild  firing,  I 
ran  down  the  platform  as  fast  as  a  heavy  fur  coat  and 
various  encumbrances  permitted  me.  Unfortunately,  I 
dropped  my  muff,  which  happened  to  be  a  sable  one 
adorned  with  tails,  containing  my  purse  and  ticket. 
Before  I  could  pick  it  up  a  man  pounced  on  it  and  made 
off  at  top  speed  toward  the  swinging  glass  doors  lead- 
ing out  of  the  station.  As  I  followed  calling  out,  I  saw 
him  vanish  through  one  of  the  doors  and  reappear  by 
another  like  a  clown  in  a  pantomime.  Calm  and  uncon- 
cerned he  was  swinging  a  cane  and  no  muff  was  visible. 
While  I  stared  at  him  in  utter  amazement  I  spied  one 
of  the  tails  of  the  muff  sticking  out  from  his  coat,  which 
he  was  endeavoring  to  keep  closed.  At  that  moment  the 
bell  which  announced  the  departure  of  the  train  began 
to  ring.  There  was  no  time  for  words ;  it  was  a  case  of 
"Do  or  die."  I  rushed  at  the  thief,  seized  the  tail  of 
the  muff  and  jumped  into  the  train,  which  I  just  man- 
aged to  catch,  leaving  the  man  with  his  mouth  wide 
open,  still  staring  as  we  crawled  out  of  the  station.  As 
to  the  wretched  victim  of  the  shooting,  I  heard  after- 
ward that  the  assassin  had  shot  him  seven  times  before 
he  was  overpowered,  and  then  tried  to  beat  out  his  brains 
with  the  butt-end  of  the  revolver,  so  great  was  his  deter- 
mination to  kill  him.  A  passenger  received  a  stray  shot 
in  his  leg,  and  altogether  it  was  a  scene  of  wild  excite- 
ment and  confusion.  From  the  paper  which  gave  an 
account  of  the  fray  it  appeared  that  both  men  were 
Americans,  the  murderer  having  stalked  his  prey  for 
more  than  a  year  and  caught  him  as  he  was  leaving 
France  for  America.  It  was  proved  at  the  trial  that 
love  and  money  were  the  motives  of  the  crime.    With 

286 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

the  usual  procrastination  of  French  justice,  the  case 
dragged  on  for  so  many  months  that  I  lost  sight  of  it  in 
the  newspapers. 

In  1891,  I  paid  my  first,  to  me  a  memorable,  visit  to 
Bayreuth.  Wagner's  music  was  not  as  popular  then  as 
it  is  now,  at  least  in  England.  The  "Ring  des  Niebe- 
lungs,"  which  had  been  given  for  years  with  the  greatest 
success  in  New  York,  had  not  as  yet  been  produced  in 
London.  The  ordinary  opera-goer  thought  himself  very 
advanced  if  he  could  sit  through  "Lohengrin" ;  as  to  "Die 
Meistersinger"  or  "Tristan  and  Isolde,"  to  most  people 
they  were  a  concatenation  of  discordant  sounds.  Vast 
was  the  ignorance  displayed  by  the  public.  I  myself  on 
one  occasion  when  "Tristan"  was  being  given,  heard  a 
couple  who  were  sitting  behind  me,  sympathize  with 
Isolde  for  her  "long  wait"  for  Tristan  in  the  third  act. 
Van  Dyck  as  Tristan  had  been  singing  for  more  than 
half  an  hour,  and,  although  by  a  stretch  of  the  imagina- 
tion, he  might  have  been  mistaken  for  a  woman  lying 
there  covered  with  a  rug,  still  they  should  have  distin- 
guished between  a  tenor  and  a  soprano.  On  the  other 
hand,  even  would-be  Wagnerians  were  sometimes  led 
astray.  A  friend  of  mine,  who  is  anything  but  musical, 
was  persuaded  by  an  embryo  enthusiast  to  go  with  him 
to  hear  "Lohengrin."  "But  I  don't  think  I  care  about 
music,"  said  the  poor  martyr;  "and  I  know  I  shall  not 
understand  a  thing."  "Nonsense,  of  course  you  will," 
replied  the  other,  and  so  accordingly  they  went.  As  the 
violins  attacked  the  long  sustained  note  in  A  whicJi  marks 
the  opening  of  the  overture,  the  two  friends  looked  un- 
easily at  each  other.  "What  is  that  noise?"  asked  the 
unmusical  one.     "I  can't  think,"  said  the  other,  as  the 

287 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

note  was  still  being  held,  "unless  it  is  the  gas  escap- 
ing." 

My  sister  Mrs.  Leslie,  who  intended  to  go  with  me 
to  Bayreuth,  had  the  happy  idea  of  arranging  some  lec- 
tures on  the  "Ring"  at  her  house  in  order  to  familiarize 
us  with  it.  A  German  musician,  a  well-known  exponent 
of  Wagner,  was  pressed  into  the  service,  and  he  brought 
with  him  a  lady  who  was  to  sing  the  different  motifs. 
The  lectures  became  a  great  success,  and  were  attended 
by  all  our  musical  friends.  The  professor's  knowledge 
of  English  was,  at  that  time,  as  slight  as  his  accent  was 
strong,  and  this  added  a  hilarity  to  the  proceedings 
which  was  certainly  not  intended.  As  some  young  ladies 
were  present,  he  was  at  times  greatly  exercised  in  ex- 
plaining the  story  of  the  "Ring."  "Siegfried"  in  par- 
ticular worried  him  much.  "Dee  ladees  mus  not  mind 
dis  bad  bisness  of  Sigmund  und  Sieglinde;  it  is  schreck- 
lich,  but  it  is  only  zee  lofs  of  zee  gods,  vich  do  not 
count.  .  .  .  Und  here  we  have  zee  lofe  motif  illustrated 
by  'triolets'  or  triplets  as  you  say  in  English."  And 
amid  smothered  laughter,  the  lecturer  would  play  the 
motif  and  the  lady  would  warble. 

A  few  years  have  increased  Wagner's  popularity  in 
England  to  an  astounding  degree.  Now  no  concert  can 
be  given  without  one  or  more  Wagnerian  selections,  and 
at  the  Covent  Garden  Opera  House,  the  "Cycle"  which  is 
performed  two  or  three  times  every  season,  attracts  huge 
crowds.  Not  content  with  this,  the  public  largely  sup- 
ported a  very  creditable  performance  given  in  English 
by  an  English  company  in  the  winter  of  1908.  It  must 
be  added  that  Dr.  Richter  conducted,  which  may  ac- 
count in  a  large  degree  for  its  excellence.     Contem- 

288 


a 

2 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

porary  music  seems  imbued  with  a  Wagnerian  spirit, 
and  no  doubt  orchestration  has  gained  what  in  origi- 
nahty  has  been  lost.  This  reminds  me  of  a  musical  critic 
who  had  a  place  next  to  mine  during  the  Leeds  Festival 
of  1907.  He  was  an  ardent  admirer  of  Elgar,  whose 
"Kingdom"  was  being  given.  Observing  that  I  was 
making  some  notes  on  my  score,  he  asked  at  the  end  of 
the  performance  if  he  might  inquire  what  I  was  record- 
ing. "Only  my  recollections  of  'Tristan'  and  'Parsifal' 
as  they  recur  to  my  memory  in  this  work,"  I  mischiev- 
ously answered.  Looking  at  me  with  a  rather  dubious 
expression,  "Oh,  yes,  quite  so,"  he  murmured;  "I  do 
not  deny  that  Wagner  came  first,  but,"  with  a  com- 
prehensive wave  of  his  hand,  "Elgar  has  gone  on." 
Such  enthusiasm  is  refreshing. 

Speaking  of  the  Leeds  Festival  it  is  curious  that  these 
musical  orgies  flourish  in  this  country  better  than  in  any 
other,  considering  that  the  English  nation  is  not  thought 
to  be  musical.  Perhaps  this  is  owing  to  the  excellence 
of  the  Leeds,  Birmingham,  and  Huddersfield  choirs 
which,  according  to  Dr.  Richter,  are  the  finest  in  the 
world.  Be  that  as  it  may,  it  is  only  an  English  audience 
which  will  stand  a  week  of  oratorios. 

The  opera  even  is  taken  much  more  seriously  than 
formerly.  What  with  "all  lights  out"  and  "no  talking," 
it  is  a  solemn  affair,  not  to  be  treated  lightly.  In  Paris, 
the  contrary  prevails.  You  are  invited  to  come  to  the 
opera  to  "see  so-and-so  dance,"  and  it  is  generally 
treated  as  a  place  for  social  intercourse  and  conversa- 
tion.    One  night,  at  a  dinner  in  London,  I  sat  next  to 

the  Due  de  G ,  who  had  just  arrived  from  Paris. 

"Delicieuse  soiree  a  I'Opera  hier,"  said  he;  "il  y  avait 
^*  291 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

foule."  "What  was  given?"  I  asked.  "Oh,  je  n'en  sais 
rien — mais  nous  avons  re9us  cinquante-quatre  visites 
dans  notre  loge!"  This  is  one  way  of  treating  the  opera, 
but  the  person  who  insists  on  explaining  everything, 
or  hums  the  melodies  which  are  being  sung  is  equally 

aggravating.     A  story  is  told  of  the  late  Lord  L , 

who  was  a  frequenter  of  the  opera,  and  had,  it  is  said, 
this  bad  habit.  One  night  in  the  omnibus  box,  he  began 
whistling  and  humming  as  usual.  "What  a  bore  that 
Jean  de  Reszke  is!"  said  a  wag  who  was  in  the  box. 
"Why?"  asked  Lord  L in  astonishment.  "Be- 
cause the  fellow  is  preventing  me  from  hearing  you 
properly." 

But  this  digression  has  led  me  far  from  Bayreuth. 
Our  party  consisted  of  Lady  de  Grey,  my  sister  Mrs. 
Leslie,  Mr.  Evan  Charteris  and  one  or  two  others.  Bay- 
reuth was  not  as  luxurious  in  those  days  as  it  has  since 
become.  It  was  only  frequented  by  the  real  lovers  of 
music,  who  were  prepared  for  the  sake  of  it  to  be  as 
uncomfortable  as  German  ideas  of  comfort  could  make 
them.  We  were  all  billeted  on  different  people,  who  in 
some  cases  could  have  only  one  lodger.  My  sister  and  I 
were  fortunate  enough  to  secure  rooms  at  a  banker's, 
where  we  fared  sumptuously  compared  to  some.  We 
gave  ourselves  up  entirely  to  the  object  of  the  moment, 
and  took  it  au  grand  serieuoc,  only  thinking  of  what  we 
were  going  to  hear  or  had  heard. 

My  first  impression  of  "Parsifal"  was,  as  the  Teutons 
say,  "colossal'^  The  pilgrimage  to  Bayreuth,  the  "low 
living  and  high  thinking,"  combined  with  the  musical 
atmosphere  we  were  living  in,  contributed  no  doubt  to 
the  rapture  we  felt,  but  that  it  existed  was  undeniable. 

292 


> 

D 
W 

W 
yi 

N 

m 


K 

c 
c 
c 
> 


X 

m 

N 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Our  little  party  had  settled  to  meet  between  the  atts  and 
exchange  opinions,  but  so  great  were  our  emotions  that 
we  all  fled  in  different  directions,  avoiding  one  another, 
until  the  performance  was  over,  when  we  should  be  more 
calm.  So  serious  was  the  audience  that  they  were  not 
even  disturbed  by  the  fact  that  Parsifal's  wig  came  off 
in  the  third  act,  during  the  Flower  Maidens'  song.  Not 
a  titter  was  heard. 

We  spent  a  delightful  week,  although,  personally,  I 
was  suffering  agonies  with  toothache,  until  I  found  an 
unexpected  Good  Samaritan  in  the  lady  who  sat  behind 
me,  and  who  produced  cocaine.  This  lady  was  no  less 
a  person  than  Mrs.  Sam  Lewis,  wife  of  the  well-known 
money-lender;  an  excellent  musician,  she  was  a  God- 
send to  innumerable  artists,  and  at  her  death  left  many 
legacies  to  them,  besides  £10,000  a  year  to  a  Consump- 
tive Hospital,  out  of  the  huge  fortune  left  her  by  her 
husband.  Mr.  Lewis,  unlike  his  wife,  was  not  artistic. 
It  is  told  of  him  that,  having  once  made  a  fortnight's 
stay  in  Rome,  he  was  asked  how  he  liked  it.  "You  can 
'ave  Rome,"  was  his  laconic  answer. 

We  varied  our  pleasures  by  excursions  on  the  off  days 
of  the  all-important  performances,  and  by  attending 
Frau  Cosima  Wagner's  receptions,  which  were  charm- 
ing and  unconventional. 

Later  in  Paris  and  in  London,  I  had  occasion  to  meet 
her  son,  Siegfried  Wagner.  I  remember  at  a  dinner 
given  in  his  honor  that  the  question  arose  as  to  which 
composers  one  would  clioose  if  limited  to  two.  We  were 
twelve  at  the  table  and  I  was  the  only  one  who  did  not 
name  Wagner.  Partly  out  of  contradiction  and  partly 
because  I  think  so,  I  mentioned  Bach  and  Beethoven. 

295 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

"My  father  would  also  have  chosen  them,"  said  Siegfried, 
to  the  confusion  of  the  flatterers!  I  met  him  once  or 
twice  afterwards  in  Paris  at  Countess  Wolkenstein's, 
the  Austrian  Ambassadress  at  that  time.  This  distin- 
guished lady,  who  as  Countess  Stieglitz  had  a  salon  in 
Berlin,  was  supposed  to  be  the  only  woman  whose  influ- 
ence was  feared  by  Bismarck.  A  life-long  friend  and 
patron  of  Wagner,  she  stood  by  him  in  his  dark  days, 
and  later  assisted  at  his  triumphs.  Mme.  Wolken- 
stein  never  misses  her  yearly  visit  to  Bayreuth,  where 
she  generally  stays  with  Mme.  Wagner.  When  in 
Paris,  we  often  went  sight-seeing  together,  accompanied 
by  Widor,  the  celebrated  organist  of  St.  Sulpice.  A 
wonderful  pianist,  Mme.  de  Wolkenstein  was  rather 
hypercritical,  and  positively  feared  hearing  indifferent 
music.  I  asked  her  to  dine  one  night  to  meet  a  young 
and  talented  amateur,  who  was  very  amusing  besides. 
"Est-ce  quil  pratique?"  she  inquired  hesitatingly.  On 
being  assured  that  he  would  not  play,  she  accepted.  In 
the  end,  however,  he  did  perform,  much  to  my  delight 
and  her  appreciation. 

I  was  once  asked  to  meet  the  Abbe  Liszt  at  the 
Russian  Embassy  in  London,  when  M.  de  Staal  was 
Ambassador.  I  sat  next  the  great  man,  whose  strong 
and  characteristic  face,  so  often  delineated  both  by  brush 
and  chisel,  seemed  strangely  familiar.  He  was  so  blind 
that  he  ate  his  asparagus  by  the  wrong  end,  until  I 
pointed  out  his  error.  "Ah!"  he  exclaimed,  "merci  bien, 
il  me  semblait  tout  de  meme  que  cela  n'etait  pas  tres 
bon!"  After  luncheon,  notwithstanding  his  gouty 
fingers,  he  was  prevailed  upon  to  play.  "Helas,"  he 
said,  "le  moindre  de  mes  eleves  jouent  mieux  que  moi 

296 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

maintenant."  And  it  was  pathetically  true.  I  never 
heard  him  at  his  best.  Rubinstein  I  well  recollect  with 
his  long  hair  tossed  about,  the  perspiration  pouring  down 
his  face  as  his  big  hands  tore  up  and  down  the  piano. 
Full  of  tricks— to  which  so  many  artists  become  ad- 
dicted— when  he  reached  the  culminating  fortissimo ^ 
wild  with  excitement,  he  would  hit  with  his  palms  or  his 
forearm  as  many  notes  as  he  possibly  could,  until  he 
seemed  positively  to  get  to  the  end  of  the  instrument, 
making  the  strings  snap  and  the  wood  sound.  When  I 
was  in  Russia,  I  was  told  that  the  head-teacher  of  a 
well-known  ladies'  school  in  St.  Petersburg  asked  him 
how  many  hours  a  day  her  pupils  should  practise  the 
piano.    "None,"  said  Rubinstein. 

Many  musicians  have  honored  me  by  performing  at 
my  house,  and  apart  from  the  pleasure  they  have  brought 
me,  I  have  always  felt  great  sympathy  for  them  in  their 
arduous  and  precarious  careers.  "So  many  are  called 
and  so  few  chosen,"  and  on  what  slender  foundations 
their  success  rests!  A  cold,  an  illness  and  their  voice 
and  fortune  may  vanish;  and  think  of  the  grinding 
slavery  instruments  mean !  Plante  the  pianist,  that  past- 
master  in  technique,  told  me  that  if,  for  some  reason  or 
other,  he  was  incapacitated  from  practising  for  three 
months  he  would  never  have  the  courage  to  take  it  up 
again.  Then  again  the  empty  concert-rooms  and  the 
adverse  criticism  of  the  struggling  days  must  try  the 
hearts  of  the  stoutest.  Paderewski,  when  he  first  came 
to  London,  brought  me  a  letter  from  a  mutual  friend. 
I  invited  to  meet  him  a  select  few  whom  I  knew  to  be 
capable  of  appreciating  and  judging  him.  Needless  to 
say,  their  admiration  and  enthusiasm  were  unbounded. 

297 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

A  few  days  later  he  gave  his  first  concert  in  St.  James's 
Hall.  The  place  was  only  half  full  and  behind  me  were 
two  musical  critics  taking  notes  for  their  papers. 
"There  's  not  much  in  this  fellow,"  said  one.  "He 
would  be  all  right,"  said  the  other,  "if  he  would  leave 
Chopin  alone,  which  he  plays  against  all  traditions." 
Stephen  Heller,  one  of  Chopin's  friends  and  my  first 
music  professor,  told  me  that  the  great  composer  never 
played  his  works  twice  in  the  same  way — so  much  for 
the  musical  critics !  The  following  year  Paderewski,  hav- 
ing had  a  gigantic  success  in  Paris  and  elsewhere,  re- 
turned to  London,  where  he  received  an  ovation  from  an 
excited  and  enthusiastic  audience  who  stormed  the  plat- 
form to  kiss  his  hands ! 

Personally  I  have  never  been  able  to  surmount  the 
nervousness  one  feels  in  playing  before  the  public 
whether  in  concerted  pieces  or  alone.  What  musical 
performers  good,  bad,  or  indifferent,  have  not  at  some 
time  or  other,  felt  their  nerve  giving  way  as  they  ap- 
proached a  difficult  passage?  Only  to  think  of  it  is 
fatal !  Once,  at  some  concert  for  charity,  I  was  playing 
a  classical  piece,  the  first  movement  of  which  had  a  few 
bars  of  some  difficulty.  The  first  time  for  the  da  capo,  I 
got  over  it  all  right,  but  to  lead  to  the  next  movement 
it  had  to  be  repeated  with  variations  in  another  key. 
To  my  consternation,  I  found  myself  embarking  on  the 
same  one,  which,  of  course,  led  me  to  repeating  the  first 
movement.  Again,  as  I  came  to  the  fatal  passage,  I 
trembled  and  did  the  same  thing.  Three  times  did  I 
repeat  that  movement  until  the  audience  were  becom- 
ing quite  familiar  with  the  tune.  As  for  me,  I  felt  in 
a  hideous  nightmare  and  was  on  the  verge  of  jumping 

298 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

up  from  the  piano  and  rushing  off  the  stage,  when,  oh! 
joy!  the  fourth  time  I  mechanically  played  the  right 
bars  and  was  able  eventually  to  bring  the  piece  to  its 
conclusion.  Hans  von  Biilow  is  supposed  to  have  done 
the  same  thing  once  with  a  sonata  of  Beethoven,  until  in 
desperation  he  had  to  send  for  the  music. 

On  another  occasion  I  was  brought  to  confusion,  but 
this  time  not  through  my  own  fault.  It  was  at  a  con- 
cert in  the  city  given    at  the  Mansion  House  before 

a  large  audience.     Mile.  and  I  were  to  play  a 

Polonaise  of  Chopin  on  two  pianos.  As  our  turn  came 
Mile.,  who  was  a  professional  of  some  experience  and 
execution,  said  hurriedly  to  me,  "At  the  eleventh  bar  on 
the  sixth  page,  when  I  make  you  a  sign  stop,  as  I  mean  to 
put  in  a  little  cadenza  of  my  own."  Before  I  could  re- 
monstrate or  point  out  that  it  would  be  an  unnecessary 
addition  to  one  of  Chopin's  masterpieces,  the  lady  had 
seated  herself  at  the  piano,  and  perforce  I  had  to  follow 
suit.  When  she  arrived  at  the  eleventh  bar  of  the  sixth 
page,  she  nodded  violently  to  me,  and  then  proceeded  to 
dazzle  the  company  with  arpeggios,  runs  and  trills,  until 
I  began  to  wonder  if  I  should  ever  find  the  propitious 
moment  to  reenter.  I  finally  did,  and  had  the  pleasure 
of  hearing  from  the  occupants  of  the  front  row  as  I  went 
out,  "Poor  Lady  Randolph,  what  a  pity  she  lost  her 
place  for  so  long !" 

To  be  able  to  read  music  well  and  to  accompany  is  all 
that  need  be  required  of  amateurs.  It  is  an  age  of 
virtuosi  and  mechanical  instruments,  and  the  poorest 
judge  is  becoming  hypercritical.  There  is  no  doubt  that 
the  day  has  jjassed  when  people  will  listen  patiently  after 
dinner  to  the  playing  of  the  "INIoonlight  Sonata"  or  the 

301 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

"Priere  d'une  Vierge,"  executed  by  the  daughter  of  the 
house.  Formerly  in  England,  every  girl  was  taught  to 
sing  whether  she  had  a  voice  or  not,  but  the  intelligent 
mother  of  to-day  realizes  that  her  daughters  are  better 
employed  in  listening  to  good  music  than  in  performing 
badly. 

I  think  I  may  fitly  end  this  chapter,  which  somehow 
has  drifted  into  one  on  music,  by  speaking  of  the  late 
Sir  Arthur  Sullivan,  who  was  one  of  the  kindest  and 
most  gentle  of  men  and  a  great  friend  of  mine.  It  was 
my  good  fortune  to  be  present  at  most  of  the  "first  nights" 
of  his  productions  and  no  one,  who  did  not  assist  at  them, 
can  realize  the  unbounded  enthusiasm  with  which  they 
were  received,  or  the  excitement  with  which  a  new  work 
was  looked  forward  to  by  the  public.  It  was  quite  a 
national  event.  Gilbert's  delicate  and  subtle  humor  and 
Sullivan's  melodies  and  exquisite  orchestration  make 
such  a  felicitous  combination  that  I  cannot  think  "Time 
will  stale  their  infinite  variety." 

At  the  outbreak  of  the  South  African  War,  Sullivan 
wrote  the  music  to  Rudyard  Kipling's  "Absent-Minded 
Beggar."  The  sale  of  this  song  realized  £75,000,  which 
went  to  the  war  fund.  Happening  to  visit  Sir  Arthur 
one  day  when  he  had  just  finished  it,  I  begged  him  to 
play  it— which  he  did.  I  confess  I  did  not  like  it. 
"Well,  what  is  your  opinion?"  he  asked.  I  answered 
guardedly,  "I  'm  afraid  I  think  the  words  are  rather 
vulgar:  'Cook's  son,  duke's  son,  son  of  a  belted  earl!'  " 

"And  so  is  the  music,"  said  he. 


302 


CHAPTER  XIII 

TOUR  ROUND  THE  WORLD  — CANADA— CALIFORNIA — 

JAPAN 

ON  the  morning  of  the  27th  of  June,  1894,  I 
started  with  Lord  Randolph  Churchill  from 
Euston  Station  for  a  tour  round  the  world. 
Quite  a  number  of  friends  besides  our  families  came  to 
see  us  off;  among  them  were  Lord  and  Lady  London- 
derry, Lady  Jeune,  Lord  Rosebery,  and  Mr.  Goschen. 
Randolph  was  very  pleased  and  touched  at  his  old  friend 
Lord  Rosebery  coming,  and  frequently  alluded  to  it 
afterward.  At  Liverpool  Mr.  Ismay  met  us  on  board 
the  Majestic;  he  reminded  me  of  the  Jubilee  trip  on  the 
Teutonic,  which  already  seemed  in  the  distant  past. 
Rough  seas  and  uninteresting  passengers  were  not  con- 
ducive to  the  time  passing  quickly.  The  only  incidents 
I  remember  were  the  inevitable  concert,  in  which  I  was 
pressed  into  the  service,  and  the  excitement  another 
night  of  nearly  running  down  a  vessel.  It  was  a  strange 
sensation  to  awake  finding  our  ship  stopped,  and  to  feel 
instead  of  the  throbbing  and  noise  of  the  machinery  an 
unwonted  calm,  broken  only  by  the  incessant  and  irri- 
tating sound  of  fog-horns. 

We  remained  only  two  days  in  New  York  as  the 
thermometer  recorded  81  degrees  in  the  shade.     Mr. 

303 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

Chauncey  Depew,  who  was  one  of  the  few  people  we 
saw,  was  good  enough  to  place  his  private  car  at  our 
disposal  for  the  projected  journey  to  Bar  Harbor.  I 
remember  asking  him  if  it  was  true  that  he  had  tele- 
graphed to  Lord  Rosebery  when  "Ladas'^  won  the 
Derby,  "Nothing  left  but  Heaven."  He  replied  that  it 
was. 

This  was  my  first  experience  of  a  private  car,  which 
proved  to  be  as  well  appointed  as  a  small  yacht,  and  was 
a  most  enjoyable  mode  of  traveling.  The  colored  cook 
prepared  an  excellent  dinner,  and  we  slept  as  comfort- 
ably as  we  could  have  done  in  our  own  beds.  After  the 
dust  and  heat  of  New  York,  Bar  Harbor  seemed  a  haven 
of  rest  with  its  fresh  sea-breezes,  lovely  drives,  and 
mountain  walks.  As  far  as  I  could  gather  the  life  there 
was  very  much  a  second  edition  of  Newport,  and  con- 
sisted in  perpetual  dressing,  dinners,  and  dances,  and 
that  horror  of  horrors,  the  leaving  of  cards.  It  was  very 
pleasant  notwithstanding,  and  we  indulged  in  all  the 
amusements  of  the  place.  We  were  invited  to  a  dance 
at  the  Kebo  Valley  Club,  a  charming  house  thoroughly 
suited  to  the  country.  It  was  a  real  joy  to  dance  the 
"Boston,"  which  only  Americans  know  properly.  There 
we  met  a  number  of  pretty  girls  whom  I  often  saw  driv- 
ing or  playing  lawn-tennis,  and  who,  anticipating  the 
"hatless  brigade"  of  to-day,  were  invariably  without 
hats.  This  I  was  told  was  to  bleach  their  hair.  I  made 
the  acquaintance  of  some  delightful  women  with  whom 
I  found  myself  in  that  perfect  sympathy  which  can  only 
be  felt  among  compatriots.  Mr.  George  Vanderbilt— 
a  very  cultivated  young  man — was  then  unmarried;  he 
had  a  steam-yacht  in  which  he  took  us  to  see  East  Har- 

304 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

bor,  where  we  had  a  fine  view  and  a  sea  below.  Close  to 
his  house,  which  faced  the  sea,  was  a  swimming-bath 
open  to  the  sky,  through  which  salt  water  was  constantly 
flowing.  Here  he  and  his  friends  of  both  sexes  dis- 
ported themselves,  bobbing  up  and  down,  diving  and 
swimming,  without  shyness— and,  I  must  say,  with- 
out vanity;  for  it  must  be  owned  that  women  do  not 
look  their  best  under  such  circumstances.  While  in 
the  water  there  was  no  hilarity  or  chaff,  everything 
was  conducted  with  the  greatest  decorum,  not  to  say 
ceremony,  which  added  to  the  ludicrous  effect  upon  the 
spectators. 

We  dined  one  night  with  Mrs.  Van  Rensselaer  Jones  to 
meet  Marion  Crawford,  who  was  staying  with  her.  Mr. 
Marion  Crawford  was  the  best  of  company.  Tall,  dark, 
with  piercing  blue  eyes,  a  decided  chin  and  kind  mouth 
adorned  with  a  small  mustache,  I  thought  him  the  very 
best  type  of  a  good-looking  American.  He  has  a  pleas- 
ant voice,  modulated  by  his  constant  use  of  the  Italian 
language,  and  talked  most  agreeably  on  all  subjects. 
At  that  time  he  took  a  very  gloomy  view  of  the  political 
outlook  in  America,  and  declared  that  the  problem  of 
socialism  would  be  solved  there.  Some  one  accused  him 
of  being  an  idle  man  and  loving  the  dolce  far'  niente. 
"Idle!"  he  exclaimed,  and  his  eyes  sparkled  with  indig- 
nation; "for  sixteen  years  I  have  worked  and  made  a 
living  by  my  pen,  and  have  produced  twenty-five 
novels !" 

At  the  same  dinner  I  met  for  the  first  time  Mr.  Court- 
land  Palmer,  a  young  amateur  pianist  who  was  inspired 
with  the  real  feu  sacre,  and  was  able  then  as  now  to  hold 
his  own  with  professionals.     During  my  stay  at  Bar 

305 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

Harbor  we  met  frequently  and  played  the  piano  to- 
gether. 

One  of  our  many  expeditions  was  a  sail  in  the  May- 
flower, the  yacht  which  won  the  International  Yacht 
Race  against  the  Galatea.  There  was  a  Bishop  on  board 
who  was  described  to  me  as  a  "bully  Bishop,"  but  we 
thought  his  appearance  somewhat  disreputable,  and  did 

not  cultivate  him.     Mr.  C ,  commonly  called  the 

"Greek  god" — a  name  which  suited  him  admirably— 
was  also  there.  When  I  told  Randolph  his  nickname,  he 
declared  he  "could  have  nothing  to  do  with  a  Greek 
god."  But  he  did,  and  liked  him.  Before  leaving 
Bar  Harbor  the  Nourmahal,  a  big  steam-yacht  belong- 
ing to  the  John  Jacob  Astors  came  into  the  harbor. 
Mrs.  Astor's  beauty  and  grace,  not  to  mention  the 
charming  simplicity  of  her  nature,  must  always  com- 
mand admiration;  but,  had  she  been  the  Empress  of 
Russia,  her  arrival  could  not  have  caused  more  com- 
motion. 

It  was  with  regret  that  we  left  Bar  Harbor  and  its 
bright  and  hospitable  inhabitants,  and  started  on  our 
Canadian  journey.  With  some  difficulty  we  procured  a 
private  car  from  the  Pullman  Company,  the  president 
of  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railway,  notwithstanding  our 
letters  to  him,  proving  a  broken  reed.  The  officials  were 
persuaded  to  place  us  at  the  end  of  the  train  in  order 
that  we  might  make  use  of  the  observation  room  with 
which  our  car,  the  "lolanthe,"  was  furnished,  and  which 
proved  a  great  boon.  We  sat  there  all  day,  or  on  the 
platform,  regardless  of  dust  and  cinders.  The  scenery 
at  first  was  very  disappointing— an  endless  straight 
track,  bordered  on  either  side  by  a  small  pink  flower 

306 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

which  never  left  us  until  we  reached  Vancouver.  The 
names  of  the  various  stations  seemed  to  represent  all 
the  nations  of  the  world:  Portage  la  Prairie,  Winni- 
peg, MacGregor,  Medicine  Hat,  and  so  on.  At  the 
latter  place  we  stopped  an  hour  and  visited  the  hos- 
pital, where  the  superintendent  with  much  pride  showed 
us  in  the  visiting-book  the  signatures  of  the  Duke 
and  Duchess  of  Connaught.  On  an  average  our 
train  stopped  every  half  hour,  with  much  whistling, 
ringing  of  bells,  and  exchange  of  greetings  between  the 
engine-driver  and  the  inhabitants.  Every  log-cabin 
was  a  station  and  every  platform  the  club  of  these  poor 
people,  whose  only  excitement  was  the  daily  arrival  of 
the  train.  After  Winnipeg  we  had  two  days  of  prairies 
which  I  should  have  liked  to  ride  over.  Every  now  and 
then  in  the  distance  one  caught  sight  of  a  ranch  sur- 
rounded by  trees,  looking  like  an  oasis  in  the  desert. 
Before  reaching  the  Rockies  we  saw  some  prairie-dogs, 
strange  little  animals  like  hairless  squirrels  with  rat-tails. 
Life  on  one  of  these  prairies,  although  probably  monot- 
onous, must  have  the  compensations  which  come  with 
peace  and  the  close  study  of  nature. 

At  Banff  we  had  our  car  put  into  a  siding,  and  passed 
two  days  there,  which  well  repaid  us.  For  the  first  time 
we  saw  the  Rockies  in  all  their  grandeur.  Unfortu- 
nately, a  prairie-fire  which  we  passed  on  our  way  some 
thirty  or  forty  miles  from  Banff,  had  filled  the  air  with 
smoke  and  made  the  mountains  misty.  Still,  we  could 
see  enough  to  realize  the  magnificence  of  the  scenery. 
The  heat  and  the  "skeeters"  were  rather  drawbacks  to  ex- 
peditions, but  we  could  not  resist  the  "call  of  the  wild," 
and  drove  about  all  day  in  uncomfortable  buckboards 

307 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

and  "cutunders."  On  one  of  those  drives  I  insisted 
on  getting  down  and  touching  some  "Hoodoos"  for  luck. 
These  curious  natural  monuments,  half  earth,  half 
stone,  are  looked  upon  by  the  Indians  with  great  super- 
stition and  awe,  "hoodoo"  being  the  Indian  word  for 
"spook."  They  certainly  were  uncanny  objects.  One 
over  seventy  feet  high  was  exactly  like  the  half-formed 
figure  of  a  man  seated  on  a  pedestal.  Our  driver  was 
a  very  intelligent,  well-educated  young  man;  I  was 
amused  at  his  telling  me  that  the  last  Englishman  he  had 
driven  thought  "it  was  a  mistake  to  plant  the  trees  so 
close  together"!  The  Vermilion  Lakes  (so  called  be- 
cause the  reeds  with  which  they  abound  turn  bright  red 
in  the  autumn)  enchanted  us  with  their  marvelous 
beauty.  We  were  rowed  the  whole  length  of  the  two 
lakes— eight  miles.  The  enormous  snow-clad  mountains 
made  a  vivid  contrast  to  the  fresh  green  vegetation 
around  us,  brilliant  with  mauve,  pink,  and  yellow  flow- 
ers, while  the  blue  water  was  so  clear  that  we  could  see 
the  bottom  of  the  lake,  over  which  two  eagles  were 
circling. 

On  the  journey  to  Vancouver  we  could  not  tear  our- 
selves away  from  the  observation  room  and  the  plat- 
form, so  glorious  was  the  scenery.  Among  those 
stupendous  heights  one  expected  to  see  the  Valkyries 
rushing  along  from  peak  to  peak  and  Wotan  on  the 
war-path.  Again,  however,  we  lost  much  of  the  view 
by  the  smoke  which  sometimes  hung  for  miles  be- 
tween us  and  everything.  Great  forest  fires  seemed  to 
be  raging  everywhere,  and  at  times  we  would  wend  our 
way  through  burning  trees  on  either  side.  It  was  a 
melancholy  sight  to  see  the  miles  of  black  stumps  and 

308 


LADV  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

leafless  skeletons,  their  twisted  and  tortured  branches 
standing  out  against  the  background  of  snow,  while  the 
bright  green  ferns  and  variegated  flowers  made  a  carpet 
at  their  feet.  I  thought  the  destruction  rather  wanton, 
as  in  some  places  we  saw  trees  burning  down  close  to  the 
stations  on  the  railway  track,  but  no  one  attempted  to 
put  the  fires  out. 

Twenty- four  hours  of  Vancouver  was  enough  for  us, 
and  we  left  for  Victoria  in  a  small  steamer  filled  with  a 
motley  crowd.  The  weather  was  so  cold  we  could  only 
gaze  at  the  scenery  through  our  cabin  windows.  We 
found  Victoria  far  more  attractive  than  Vancouver,  even 
though  it  is  possible  that  it  is  being  "left  behind,"  as  is 
asserted  by  the  rival  city.  I  lunched  one  day  with  the 
Bishop  of  Columbia,  and  suddenly  realized  that  I  was 
in  a  British  dependency  when  a  bevy  of  healthy-looking 
girls  came  in  from  playing  ofl"  a  lawn-tennis  tournament 
escorted  by  a  couple  of  curates.  While  there  we  re- 
ceived a  visit  from  Colonel  Baker,  a  brother  of  Valentine 
Baker  of  Egyptian  fame.  Being  in  the  British  Colum- 
bian government,  he  was  full  of  information.  I  was 
somewhat  startled  when  he  said,  "Now  that  I  am  in  the 
Cabinet."  My  ignorance  was  so  great  that  I  learned 
for  the  first  time  that  British  Columbia  had  a  constitu- 
tion and  a  Parliament  of  its  own.  Home  Rule  witli  a 
vengeance !  Colonel  Baker  enlightened  me.  Igatheredtliat 
tlieir  Parliament  lasts  for  four  years,  and  their  Parties 
are  not  divided  into  Liberals  and  Conservatives,  but  are 
called  the  "Ins"  and  the  "Outs."  Their  policy  is  merely 
that  of  Local  Government  Board  or  County  Council, 
and  interest  in  such  foreign  questions  as  may  afl*ect 
them.    The  "Ins"  want  to  stay  in,  and  the  "Outs"  strive 

311 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

to  get  in,  which  struck  me  as  describing  the  feehngs  of 
politicians  of  all  countries  and  parties. 

At  Victoria  I  had  my  first  experience  of  a  male 
Chinese  housemaid  whom  I  mistook  (notwithstanding 
trousers)  for  a  comfortable  old  woman.  I  found  an  ex- 
cellent Steinway  piano  in  the  hotel,  and  played  to  my 
heart's  content,  to  the  evident  delight  of  some  old  ladies 
who  used  to  congregate  to  hear  me.  On  one  occasion, 
however,  I  scattered  them  like  frightened  wood-pigeons 
when,  to  the  inquiry  what  was  the  "sweetly  pretty" 
tmie  I  was  playing,  I  answered,  "Gdtterddmmerung!" 
with  an  emphasis  on  the  third  syllable.  With  one  look 
of  pained  surprise  they  gathered  up  their  skirts  and 
fled. 

H.  M.  S.  Royal  Arthur,  with  Admiral  Stephenson  on 
board  was  lying  off"  Esquimault  (pronounced  Squimalt 
by  the  inhabitants) ;  we  lunched  with  him  one  day  and 
saw  the  sights,  such  as  they  were.  It  was  very  pleasant 
to  meet  an  old  friend  again,  and  he  took  us  back  to  Vic- 
toria on  his  barge.  On  the  way  we  came  across  many 
canoes  filled  with  Indians,  whole  families,  the  old  squaws 
paddling  away  for  dear  life.  A  large  log  with  two  men 
astride  it  and  a  dog  sitting  solemnly  between  them, 
formed  a  strange-looking  craft.  They  paddled  with 
great  skill  as  the  slightest  movement  would  have  upset 
them.  A  tight  rope  was  security  compared  to  it.  At  a 
distance  they  looked  as  if  they  were  sitting  in  the  water. 

Continuing  our  journey  we  started  for  the  Golden 
Horn  in  a  steamer  which  rejoiced  in  the  name  of  Walla 
Walla.  After  three  days  of  cold,  comfortless  sea,  over 
which  I  draw  a  veil,  we  arrived  at  San  Francisco  to  find 
the  weather  windy  and  sunless.    Walking  was  unpleas- 

312 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

ant  owing  to  the  innumerable  electric  tramways  which 
seemed  to  come  upon  one  from  every  direction.  We 
visited  Chinatown  with  a  detective.  The  joss-houses, 
opium  dens,  and  gambling  places  were  very  stuffy  and 
astonishingly  small.  The  opium-smokers  lie  on  bare 
boards  and  in  such  uncomfortable  attitudes  that  it  is  a 
mystery  to  me  how  they  can  find  enjoyment  in  the  per- 
nicious practice.  I  was  looking  with  amazement  at  a 
fat  old  Chinaman  who  had  screwed  himself  up  into  a 
true  lover's  knot,  which  ought  to  have  caused  agonizing 
cramps  to  anything  human,  when  he  half  opened  his 
eyes  and  with  an  expression  of  beatitude  said,  "It 
makee  me  feel  good."  The  smell  of  the  Chinaman  and 
the  opium  mixed — half  sour,  half  sweet — was  revolting. 
I  was  anxious  to  see  the  theaters,  but  our  guide  thought 
it  might  be  rash. 

I  received  many  baskets  of  flowers  artistically  ar- 
ranged, white,  pink,  and  mauve  sweet  peas,  roses  of  all 
kinds  with  long  stems,  and  magnolia  blossoms  in  pro- 
fusion. But  the  flowers  in  California  although  lovely, 
have  little  odor,  and  the  fruit,  which  is  gorgeous,  lacks 
taste,  like  a  beautiful  woman  devoid  of  brains.  At  a 
dinner  at  the  University  Club  (in  which  there  is  a  room 
prettily  paneled  in  oak  where  ladies  may  dine),  I  was 
introduced  to  an  "oyster  cocktail"  to  which  I  took 
kindly,  and  to  a  "fancy  roast"  also  made  of  oysters. 

In  despair  at  not  seeing  the  sun  we  departed  to  Mon- 
terey. We  had  heard  much  of  its  beauty  and  were  not 
disappointed;  indeed,  the  gardens  surpassed  all  I  had 
imagined.  I  was  never  tired  of  walking  about  and  ad- 
miring the  splendid  trees,  shrubs,  and  plants  of  all 
kinds,  while  the  flowers  were  in  a  profusion  I  have  never 
^^  313 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

seen  equaled  anywhere.  The  Arizona  Garden  with  its 
tropical  plants  was  new  to  me.  We  indulged  in  what 
is  known  as  the  "Seventeen-mile  Drive"  along  the 
coast.  The  charm  of  this  road  is  in  its  variety.  As  we 
drove  through  Monterey,  which  is  very  like  a  small 
Spanish  town,  and  which  California  looks  upon  as  ex- 
tremely ancient — being  over  one  hundred  years  old — 
our  driver  pointed  out  several  buildings,  and  gravely 
said  they  dated  from  1830  or  1850!  After  several  miles 
of  forest  the  ocean  suddenly  came  into  view,  and  a 
quantity  of  seals  were  seen  disporting  themselves  on  the 
rocks,  while  an  exciting  fight  was  going  on  between  two. 
We  watched  them  for  a  long  while — sometimes  they 
would  tumble  off  into  the  water,  but  quickly  scrambled 
up  again  to  have  a  few  more  rounds.  I  pro- 
posed to  wait  and  see  the  end,  but  our  driver  informed 
us  that  they  might  go  on  for  a  couple  of  hours.  On  our 
way  back  we  passed  through  the  celebrated  Cypress 
Grove,  a  very  entrancing  spot,  full  of  mystery  and 
charm.  These  ancient  trees,  so  old  that  generations 
have  lost  count  of  them,  twist  their  gnarled  trunks  away 
from  the  sea,  their  dark  green  heads  embellished  by  long 
pale  strands  of  the  feathery  moss  which  eventually 
strangles  them. 

The  Del  Monte  Hotel  at  Monterey  was  alive  with  the 
most  energetic  young  people  I  have  ever  seen.  They 
swam  in  the  early  morning,  rode,  drove,  played  lawn- 
tennis,  and  danced  all  night.  Looking  on  at  a  ball  one 
evening,  I  happened  to  relate  to  a  gentleman  whose  ac- 
quaintance I  had  just  made  the  remark  of  a  Frenchman 
with  whom  I  was  once  dancing.  "C'est  terrible"  he 
said,  as,  panting  and  puffing,  he  tried  to  regain  his 

314 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

breath.  "Well,  why  do  you  dance  if  you  hate  it?"  I 
inquired.  "C'est  pour  V hygiene— 31  on  medecin  me  le 
recommandef'  I  was  rather  startled  to  see  my  story 
twenty- four  hours  afterward  in  a  newspaper,  wonder- 
fully embellished  under  the  heading  "Lady  Randolph 
tells  Good  Stories  in  the  Porch  of  Del  Monte!" 

While  in  America  we  managed  to  evade  reporters 
fairly  successfully;  at  San  Francisco,  however,  an  enter- 
prising journalist,  having  been  denied  an  interview  with 
Randolph,  published  an  imaginary  one  which  was  so 
comical  that  I  could  not  be  angry.  A  woman  reporter 
having  pursued  me  without  success,  invaded  my  bed- 
room one  morning  as  I  was  emerging  from  my  bath,  and 
when  I  gently  but  firmly  pushed  her  out  burst  into  tears. 
Her  weeping  mollified  me,  and  I  saw  her  later.  Poor 
thing!  I  daresay,  if  the  truth  were  known,  she  hated  the 
interview  as  much  as  I  did. 

Leaving  San  Francisco  in  the  Umatilla,  we  repeated 
our  somewhat  uncomfortable  journey,  returning  to  Vic- 
toria on  our  way  to  the  Far  East. 

The  Empress  of  Japan,  in  which  we  sailed  for  Yoko- 
hama, proved  to  be  an  ocean  palace,  clean  and  comfort- 
able, and,  much  to  my  delight  and  appreciation,  the 
saloons  were  decorated  with  quantities  of  Japanese 
plants  and  shrubs.  The  Chinese  waiters,  too,  were  a 
novelty.  Dressed  in  their  butcher-blue  or  white,  they 
looked  picturesque.  Among  the  passengers  were  Baron 
Speck  von  Sternburg,  late  German  Ambassador  at 
Washington,  and  Mr.  Villiers,  the  war  correspondent  of 
"The  Graphic."  We  were  greatly  interested  and  excited 
at  the  thought  that  we  should  find  Japan  in  a  martial 
state,  as  the  Chinese  and  Japanese  war  was  then  at  its 

315 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

height ;  and,  not  knowing  Japan,  we  anticipated  stirring 
scenes  and  sights.  Great  were  to  be  the  doings  of  Mr. 
ViUiers,  who  expected  to  go  at  once  to  the  front. 

On  arriving,  we  found  that  the  harbor  of  Yokohama 
was  laid  with  torpedoes  and  submarines,  and  the  captain 
had  to  get  a  government  boat  to  pilot  us  in.  I  was  glad 
to  leave  the  ship,  as  the  Pacific  had  been  anything  but 
peaceful.  Rough  seas,  gray  and  leaden  skies,  constant 
rolling  and  pitching,  besides  the  monotony,  had  begun 
to  weary  us. 

On  anchoring  in  the  harbor,  we  immediately  found 
ourselves  surrounded  by  a  shoal  of  craft  of  all  sizes  and 
shapes,  from  a  steam-launch  to  a  sampan,  Japanese 
junks  hovering  on  the  outside  of  the  crowd.  I  watched 
the  motley  crew  for  some  time,  their  various  costumes — 
or  the  want  of  them — amusing  me  much.  On  a  govern- 
ment launch  were  some  little  military  men,  dores  sur 
toutes  les  coutures,  coming  to  greet  the  Japanese  officers 
we  had  on  board.  Much  bowing  and  scraping  took 
place.  We  were  surrounded  by  sampans  trying  to  get 
out  of  the  way,  manned  by  coolies  dressed  only  in  white 
cotton  Eton  jackets  and  a  bright  bit  of  blue  stuff  bound 
round  their  heads,  a  great  contrast  to  the  gorgeous  uni- 
forms. We  were  not  sorry  to  get  ashore  and  betake 
ourselves  to  the  hotel. 

There  we  found  many  war  correspondents,  who 
looked  very  dejected,  as  they  were  not  allowed  to  join 
the  army.  Mr.  Villiers  managed  later  to  get  to  the 
front,  but  with  such  restrictions  that  I  imagine  his  re- 
ports could  have  been  of  little  value,  as  he  was  denied 
the  use  of  the  telegraph,  and  everything  he  wrote  had  to 
be  submitted  to  the  minister  of  war  for  supervision. 

316 


< 

X 

u 

as 


O 
z 

w 
> 

<: 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

There  had  been  a  great  Japanese  victory  the  day 
before,  and  this  made  the  war  more  popular  than  ever, 
although  we  could  not  see  many  signs  of  rejoicing.  I 
gathered  from  the  different  people  I  met  that  the  situa- 
tion was  being  forced  by  the  government,  to  create  a 
diversion  from  internal  troubles.  I  was  told  that  the 
English  in  Japan  rather  sympathized  with  the  Chinese, 
whereas,  when  later  we  went  to  China,  we  found  the 
situation  there  just  the  reverse.  Although  the  Chinese 
had  the  men  and  the  money,  they  hated  fighting,  as  was 
proved  by  the  result  of  the  campaign.  I  have  always 
thought  that  the  Japanese  were  very  badly  treated  by 
Europe  in  general  and  England  in  particular  in  not 
being  allowed  to  reap  the  fruits  of  their  victory.  Even 
in  the  recent  Russian  war,  although  conquerors,  they 
were  not  allowed  a  free  hand. 

After  the  cold  of  the  Pacific,  the  damp  heat  of  Yoko- 
hama was  very  trying,  and  we  stayed  only  a  few  days 
before  going  up  to  Myanoshita,  in  the  hills. 

Before  leaving  Yokohama,  I  went  to  the  theater, 
which  certainly  was  unlike  anything  I  had  ever  seen  be- 
fore. We  sat  on  the  floor  of  our  so-called  box,  and  had 
tea  like  the  crowd.  And  such  a  crowd !  It  was  an  end- 
less source  of  interest  and  amusement  to  watch  them, 
whole  families — mothers-in-law  and  daughters-in-law, 
children  of  all  ages,  and  parents  of  different  generations, 
fathers,  sons,  and  grandsons.  All  had  their  dinners 
with  them.  Little  trays  were  produced— tiny  boxes  full 
of  rice,  bowls  containing  weird  food-stuffs,  pink,  white, 
and  green,  seaweed  on  rice  cakes,  raw  fish,  and  nameless 
yellow  condiments,  tea  in  microscopic  cu])s,  of  course, 
with  no  milk  or  sugar.  The  Japanese  cannot  understand 

319 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

Europeans  putting  milk  in  their  tea,  as,  according  to 
them,  it  has  a  strong  smell.  The  children  were  dressed 
and  undressed  during  the  entr'actes,  and  people  smoked, 
slept,  ate,  talked,  and  fanned  themselves.  It  was  cer- 
tainly a  great  contrast  to  see  a  little  "musme"  such  as 
Pierre  Loti  describes,  daintily  dressed  in  the  gayest  of 
kimonos  and  smartest  of  obis,  sitting  between  a  coolie 
wearing  nothing  but  a  loose  cotton  jacket  and  an  old 
hag  nursing  a  baby.  Although  it  was  true  that  most  of 
the  men  had  little  on,  and  the  thermometer  was  85  de- 
grees, the  atmosphere  was  not  impossible,  as  I  am  sure 
would  have  been  the  case  in  a  European  theater  under 
similar  circumstances.  The  plays  have  usually  fourteen 
or  fifteen  acts,  and  last  all  day,  and  sometimes  two.  This 
particular  one  not  having  an  actress  such  as  Sadi  Yacco 
to  interpret  it,  was  quite  unintelligible  to  me;  but  I  ad- 
mired the  grace  of  the  actresses,  their  easy  movements 
when  dancing,  and  the  way  they  managed  their  tight 
clothes.  Imagine  my  surprise  when  I  found  out  after- 
ward that  they  were  all  men!  Up  to  a  few  years  ago 
men  and  women  did  not  act  together  in  Japan,  the 
theatrical  companies  being  composed  of  either  one  sex 
or  the  other.  But  a  change  has  come  over  them,  and 
there  are  now  mixed  companies. 

One  afternoon  I  visited  the  nursery  gardens  of  Boh- 
mer,  where  I  saw  quantities  of  the  stunted  shrubs  and 
trees  so  dear  to  the  Japanese  heart,  and  with  which  they 
love  to  decorate  their  miniature  gardens.  I  bought  sev- 
eral, including  a  century-old  maple  about  ten  or  twelve 
inches  high,  the  tiny  leaves  of  which  were  at  that  moment 
bright  red.  On  my  return  to  England  I  gave  this  little 
tree  to  the  Princess  of  Wales,  who  was  delighted  with  it; 

320 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

for  all  I  know  it  may  still  be  alive.  The  whole  place  was 
perfumed  by  the  gold  and  white  "moxa,"  and  I  longed 
to  bring  some  away,  as  well  as  the  huge  gardenia  and 
daphne  plants,  which  were  as  large  as  ordinary  lilac 
bushes.  Baron  Sternburg,  who  was  with  me,  proposed 
that  we  should  walk  back  from  the  gardens,  but  we  soon 
lost  ourselves,  and,  hot  and  dusty,  took  refuge  in  an  in- 
viting-looking tea-house  while  we  sent  for  a  jinrikisha. 
The  place  was  evidently  not  frequented  by  Europeans, 
as  the  little  maids  who  waited  on  us  hovered  about  me 
with  the  greatest  curiosity,  and  before  I  could  stop  them, 
one  had  put  on  my  gloves,  another  had  seized  my  hat, 
which  I  had  taken  off,  placing  it  on  her  greasy,  black 
locks,  and  a  third  was  strutting  about  with  my  parasol. 
At  last  they  became  quite  obstreperous,  and  it  was  only 
when  my  companion  promised  them  sake  that  they  left 
us  in  peace. 

On  leaving  Yokohama,  we  said  good-by  to  our 
steamer  friends,  and  started  by  train  for  Myanoshita. 

At  the  station  there  was  a  great  crowd :  naked  coolies ; 
tradesmen  in  flowing  kimonos,  carrying  Mrs.  Gamp 
umbrellas  and  topped  by  monstrous  pot-hats ;  artisans  in 
blue  cotton  tunics,  with  the  description  and  badge  of 
their  trade  printed  on  their  backs  in  white,  or  inclosed  in 
a  circle  of  black  on  a  red  ground;  to  say  nothing  of 
masses  of  women.  The  married  ones  were  easily  recog- 
nized by  their  shaved  eyebrows  and  blackened  teeth,  in 
which  hideous  custom  they  indulge  in  order  to  remain 
faithful  to  their  husbands,  but  which  conceivably  might 
produce  the  reverse  eif  ect  on  the  husbands  themselves. 
Among  them  were  a  number  of  girls,  their  sliiny  hair 
stiff  with  camelia  oil,  and  adorned  with  combs,  tiny 

321 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

chrysanthemums,  and  coral  beads,  their  painted  faces 
breaking  into  a  smile  if  you  looked  at  them.  The  motley 
crowd,  which  was  reinforced  at  every  station,  walked, 
stumped,  and  toddled  into  the  train,  which  consisted  of  a 
few  diminutive  carriages  more  like  a  glorified  toy  than 
anything  else.  JNIost  of  these  people  were  mounted  on 
clogs,  making  a  loud  and  curious  noise. 

After  two  hours  of  slow  winding  between  soft-green 
hills  covered  with  feathery  vegetation,  we  arrived  at 
Kodga,  where  we  got  into  a  tramway  (made  in  Birming- 
ham), and  rattled  for  an  hour  through  one  long  street, 
which  comprised  endless  villages.  The  weather  being 
hot,  the  inhabitants,  including  the  babies,  were  carrying 
on  their  various  vocations  in  front  of  their  open  houses, 
minus  their  clothes.  All  seemed  hard  at  work  and  good- 
humored.  The  Japanese  are  proverbially  fond  of  chil- 
dren, who,  for  fear  they  should  be  lost,  are  each  made  to 
wear  a  little  metal  ticket  with  name  and  address  at- 
tached. Attractive  as  they  undoubtedly  are,  it  is  a  mis- 
take to  say  that  they  never  cry ;  and  it  is  equally  untrue 
to  say  that  smells  do  not  exist  in  Japan.  Defective 
drainage  and  stale  fish  do  not,  as  a  rule,  remind  one  of 
the  "perfumes  of  Araby."  We  stopped  occasionally  to 
change  the  wretched  horses.  Japanese  horses  have  no 
quarters,  and  are  sorry-looking  quadrupeds;  Chinese 
horses,  on  the  other  hand,  have  no  shoulders.  At  Yumoto 
we  all  got  into  jinrikishas,  each  with  two  men,  one  to 
pull  and  the  other  to  push,  and  we  proceeded  at  a  trot 
up  the  stoniest  road  I  have  ever  traveled.  Once  we 
stopped  at  a  tea-house,  where  the  landlady,  with  much 
in-drawing  of  breath  (to  show  her  civility  by  not  breath- 
ing in  one's  face)  and  with  much  bowing  and  rubbing  of 

322 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

knees,  gave  us  Japanese  tea  in  the  usual  cups  without 
handles,  and  the  pink-and-white  cakes  one  sees  every- 
where, impossible,  dry,  musty  horrors.  Our  jinrikisha- 
men,  the  perspiration  pouring  from  their  brown  bodies, 
took  off  their  white  jackets  (the  one  garment)  and 
proceeded  to  wash  and  dash  water  over  themselves  from 
the  pump  near  by.  The  pump  was  pretty  and  pictur- 
esque, consisting  as  it  did  of  two  bamboos,  one  brown, 
the  other  dark  green ;  in  one  of  which  there  was  a  large 
bunch  of  wild  flowers,  while  from  the  other  the  clear 
mountain  stream  poured  into  one  of  those  delightful  big 
Japanese  tubs.  The  face  of  my  maid  (a  prim,  highly 
respectable  person)  was  a  study  as  the  men  resumed 
their  mushroom  hats  and  girded  up  their  loins  afresh. 
In  consequence  of  my  having  treated  them  to  sake  at 
the  tea-house,  we  were  trotted  briskly  up  to  the  Fujiyya 
Hotel. 

The  place  looked  pretty  and  quaint,  and  tlie  calm  and 
peace  were  welcome,  but  it  was  disappointing  to  find 
the  hotel  full  of  Europeans,  mostly  pale,  jaded  people 
from  Hong-Kong,  Shanghai,  and  even  Singapore,  come 
to  recruit  in  the  fresh  air  of  Myanoshita,  which  is  3000 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea. 

We  passed  a  pleasant  fortnight  there.  I  never  tired 
of  the  mountains,  with  their  changing  shadows,  deep 
gorges,  and  rushing  streams  and  cascades,  with  here  and 
there  to  rejoice  the  eye  a  peep  of  the  sea  in  the  distance. 
The  vegetation  was  a  great  source  of  interest  and 
pleasure,  it  was  all  so  new  and  so  attractive:  on  our  jour- 
ney up  I  counted  fifty-five  different  kinds  of  agricul- 
tural products  and  shrubs.  The  number  of  little  villages 
and  houses  dotted  about  everywhere  afforded  a  good 

323 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

glimpse  of  Japanese  peasant  life.  All  seemed  hard- 
working, contented,  and  good-humored.  One  day  we 
went  to  the  Lake  of  Hakone,  carried  thither  in  straw 
chairs  supported  on  bamboo  sticks  by  four  men,  not  a 
very  comfortable  mode  of  progression.  They  had  a 
wonderful  way  of  changing  places  with  one  another  to 
relieve  the  load  on  their  shoulders,  and  doing  so  without 
shaking  one  in  the  least. 

At  a  bend  of  the  mountain  path  we  suddenly  came 
upon  a  large  Buddha  carved  in  the  side  of  the  rock.  In- 
numerable prayers  in  the  shape  of  bits  of  paper  stuck 
on  sticks  were  planted  before  him ;  his  legs  were  crossed, 
and  the  soles  of  the  feet  turned  up  to  show  that  he 
never  sullied  them  by  contact  with  things  earthly.  The 
look  of  eternal  peace  which  characterizes  all  the  effigies 
of  Buddha  is  due,  I  think,  to  the  closed  eyes  being  so  far 
apart,  the  serene  and  slightly  smiling  mouth  adding  to 
the  unfathomable  expression. 

Japanese  photographers  are  such  excellent  artists 
that  they  always  manage  to  find  the  most  picturesque 
point  of  view.  If,  in  visiting  some  place,  one  does  not 
follow  in  their  footsteps,  one  is  apt  to  be  disappointed 
and  think  they  must  have  idealized.  These  were  my 
feelings  at  Lake  Hakone,  although  I  realized  its  beauty. 
We  crossed  the  lake  in  two  sampans,  our  noses  in  the  air, 
gazing  at  the  clouds  for  the  point  de  mire  of  all  Japan, 
Fuji-yama,  the  great,  the  sacred.  But  as  usual  she  had 
veiled  herself  in  a  cloud  of  mist,  and  not  having  as  yet 
seen  her,  I  was  fain  to  be  content  with  her  presentment 
on  my  new  kimono,  which  I  found  on  returning  to  the 
hotel.  We  walked  back  part  of  the  way  over  very  rough 
ground  steaming  with  sulphurous  springs. 

324 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Mr.  Le  Poer  Trench,  the  EngHsh  Minister,  had  ar- 
rived, and  we  were  deUghted  to  make  his  acquaintance; 
and  also  that  of  Professor  Basil  Hall  Chamberlain, 
whose  book,  "Things  Japanese,"  over  which  I  had  been 
poring  with  enthusiasm,  is  a  standard  work  for  all 
English-speaking  people.  They  brought  us  the  news  of 
the  great  battle  of  Pyong-yang,  where  the  Japanese 
claimed  to  have  killed  20,000  Chinamen ;  and  of  a  naval 
engagement  where  six  Chinese  and  three  Japanese  ships 
were  sunk  and  blown  up.  Mr.  Trench,  who  was  un- 
married, had  not  at  that  time  been  very  long  in  Japan. 
His  health  was  not  of  the  best,  as  the  climate  of  INIexico, 
his  previous  diplomatic  post,  had  not  suited  him.  A 
thin,  pleasant  man  of  about  forty-five,  I  found  him  a 
great  acquisition.  We  used  to  take  long  walks  together, 
climbing  the  most  precipitous  hills. 

The  three  weeks  of  absolute  rest  at  Myanoshita  did 
Randolph  much  good,  everything  was  so  reposeful,  from 
the  quiet  Japanese  landscape,  with  its  soft  grays  and 
greens,  to  the  bevy  of  little  "musmes"  who  waited  upon 
us,  moving  silently  and  swiftly  about  in  their  stocking- 
feet,  always  smiling  and  gentle. 

Intending  to  go  to  Tokio,  we  were  obliged  to  retrace 
our  steps  to  Yokohama,  where  we  stayed  two  nights. 
There  we  found  considerable  excitement  in  the  harbor 
over  the  arrival  of  four  large  German  ironclads  on  their 
way  to  Korea  to  "watch"  the  progress  of  the  war.  We 
could  not  but  think  it  a  pity  that  the  British  seemed  so 
apathetic  and  unrepresented.  The  Japanese  were  get- 
ting very  much  "above  themselves,"  and  the  English 
government  had  rather  given  in  to  them  over  the  last 
commercial  treaty.    So  at  least  thought  the  English  resi- 

325 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

dents  and  merchants.  The  war  was  the  one  topic  in  the 
town.  I  went  to  a  popular  theater  to  see  a  play  repre- 
senting the  battle  of  Pyong-yang.  It  was  densely 
crowded,  and  with  difficulty  we  got  places  in  the  gallery. 
In  the  last  act  the  Chinese  troops,  represented  by  three 
Chinamen,  were  perpetually  being  killed  by  twenty 
Japs,  who  rushed  about  bugling  incessantly,  brandishing 
swords,  letting  off  rifles,  and  enjoying  it  madly.  In  the 
center  of  the  revolving  stage  was  a  cardboard  town 
which  was  presently  lighted  up  with  red  lights,  the  climax 
being  reached  when  a  small,  yellow  general  in  a  smart 
European  uniform  rushed  out  from  the  smoke,  and  in  a 
piping  treble  made  a  speech  to  the  army  of  twenty,  all 
there  to  a  man.  At  this  a  paroxysm  seized  the  audience, 
and  they  became  so  excited  that  we  fled.  Wata,  my 
jinrikisha-man,  asked  me  if  it  was  not  "good  big  play." 

Although  the  distance  to  Tokio  was  only  eighteen 
miles,  we  took  nearly  two  hours  to  get  there.  We  met 
a  train  full  of  soldiers  going  to  the  front;  there  was 
much  cheering,  and  many  sayonaras  were  exchanged. 
Fuji-yama,  or  "Fuji,"  as  they  afl'ectionately  call  her, 
showed  herself  for  the  first  time.  The  top  alone  was 
visible,  and  that  only  for  a  few  moments,  the  "Peerless 
One"  retiring  again  behind  the  clouds.  The  expedition 
to  the  top  is,  I  believe,  very  tiring,  but  most  thrilHng. 
Descending,  one  "toboggans"  on  one's  feet  through  the 
ashes.  This  was  done  by  Sir  Harry  Parkes  and  his  wife 
forty  years  ago,  they  being  the  first  Europeans  allowed 
to  ascend  the  mountain,  which  up  to  that  time  had  been 
held  sacred  from  the  foot  of  the  Western  stranger. 

I  was  astonished  to  find  Tokio  such  a  vast  place;  it 
covers  an  area  as  large  as  that  of  London.     The  dis- 

326 


LORD  CrKZON  01-   KEDLESTON 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

tances  are  enormous,  and  I  pitied  the  poor  jinrikisha- 
boys,  who  often  trotted  for  miles  for  a  very  small 
remuneration.  We  went  to  the  Shiba  Temples  and  saw 
the  tombs  of  the  shoguns.  The  inner  temple  is  full  of 
large  stone-and-bronze  lanterns,  which  are  the  offerings 
and  tributes  to  the  dead  from  their  royal  relatives.  To 
go  into  the  temple  we  had  to  take  oif  our  boots,  while  an 
apathetic  priest  looked  on,  his  shaven  head  shaped  like 
an  emu's  egg,  and  his  somewhat  tawdry  kimono  making 
him  appear  anything  but  prepossessing.  We  duly  vis- 
ited the  shrines,  admired  the  beautiful  frescoes  and 
lacquered  ceilings;  the  gold-lacquered  doors  of  great 
value;  the  carvings,  ten  or  twelve  inches  deep,  repre- 
senting flowers  and  birds  marvelously  true  to  nature; 
and,  last  but  not  least,  the  plain  stone  urn  over  the  grave 
of  each  shogun,  the  only  ornament  being  the  three  gold 
asarum  leaves,  the  crest  of  the  Tokugawa  royal  family. 
Next  we  went  to  the  tombs  of  the  forty-seven  Ronins, 
the  brave  and  wonderful  men,  who,  having  revenged 
their  ruined  and  murdered  master  by  killing  his  power- 
ful enemy,  all  performed  hara-kiri,  and  have  been  wor- 
shiped ever  since.  The  tomb  of  the  chief  Ronin, 
O-ishi-Kura  Nos'uke,  was  covered  with  flowers  and  pa- 
per prayers,  and  there  was  a  large  basket  of  cards 
hanging  on  the  door,  to  which  of  course  we  contributed 
ours.  Mr.  Trench  invited  us  to  luncheon  at  the  British 
legation,  where  we  met,  among  others.  Captain  Brinkley 
and  Professor  Chamberlain.  The  legation  showed  signs 
of  the  last  earthquake,  which  must  have  been  a  severe 
one,  as  evidences  of  it  were  everywhere.  Although 
more  than  two  months  had  passed,  repairs  were  still 
being  made. 

329 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

Another  day  we  lunched  with  Captain  Brinkley,  to 
see  his  wonderful  collection  of  china  and  bronzes.  He 
had  been  a  resident  in  Japan  for  over  forty  years,  was 
the  editor  or  proprietor  of  "The  Japan  Mail."  A 
man  of  great  influence  and  vast  information,  he  was 
most  pleasant  to  meet.  Every  notable  person  who  came 
to  Japan,  or  wished  to  write  about  the  country,  con- 
sulted him  as  a  walking  encyclopedia.  He  told  me  that 
of  all  the  searching  inquisitions  to  which  he  had  ever 
been  subjected  the  severest  was  that  of  Lord  Curzon  of 
Kedleston  (then  George  Nathaniel  Curzon).  For  four 
hours  he  plied  him  with  questions,  which,  notwithstand- 
ing Captain  Brinkley's  knowledge  of  the  country,  were 
often  difficult  to  answer.  He  spoke  of  him  with  un- 
bounded admiration  as  being  the  cleverest  man  he  had 
ever  met.  Captain  Brinkley's  wife,  a  Japanese  lady 
who  had  been  married  to  him  some  years,  did  the  honors 
of  his  house  with  that  wonderful  grace  and  gentleness 
of  which  Japanese  women  alone  seem  to  have  the  secret. 
The  extraordinary  refinement  and  high-bred  look  of  a 
well-born  Japanese  is  most  attractive.  Dressed  in  a 
kimono  of  neutral-tinted  silk,  with  a  discreet  obi,  and 
a  soft,  pale-pink  eri,  or  collar,  a  beautiful,  old  gold- 
lacquered  comb  in  her  shiny-black  hair,  this  lady  pre- 
sented a  very  different  appearance  to  the  bedizened 
geisha,  with  the  rainbow-colored  garments,  which  is  the 
accepted  European  idea  of  Japanese  women.  The  late 
Mrs.  Bishop,  writing  about  Japan,  says  that  to  one  who 
has  lived  there  for  some  time,  European  women,  how- 
ever ladylike,  appear  in  comparison  loud  and  vulgar  in 
their  voices  and  manners.  Through  an  interpreter,  an 
English  lady  who  seemed  a  sort  of  dame  de  compagnie, 

330 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Mrs.  Brinkley  and  I  were  able  to  carry  on  a  conversa- 
tion. In  speaking  of  their  education,  obedience,  I  was 
told,  played  the  greatest  part.  "There  are  the  three  obe- 
diences," said  my  hostess,  "the  child's  obedience  to  its 
parents,  the  wife's  to  the  husband,  and  the  mother's  to 
the  eldest  son."  Presently  we  plunged  into  the  myste- 
ries of  "Peach  bloom,"  "Sang  de  boeuf,"  and  "Famille 
verte"  as  bit  by  bit  the  celebrated  collection  was  brought 
in  from  a  godown,  or  fireproof  house,  next  door.  In 
this  custom.  Captain  Brinkley  copied  the  Japanese,  who 
always  keep  everything  of  value  in  such  a  place,  each 
house  having  one  of  its  own.  A  few  objects  are  particu- 
larly selected  according  to  the  season  of  the  year,  and 
are  placed  in  an  alcove  in  the  principal  room.  After 
being  admired  for  a  fortnight  or  so,  these  are  sent  back, 
and  others  are  brought  in  their  place.  In  this  way  the 
treasures  can  be  properly  appreciated,  and  each  time  ap- 
pear as  fresh  revelations.  The  Japanese  consider,  not 
perhaps  without  reason,  that  Europeans  crowd  their 
houses  in  an  absurd  manner,  and  make  them  look  like 
shops. 

We  ended  our  pleasant  day  by  being  taken  to  see  the 
houses  and  gardens  of  Mr.  Iwasaki,  a  magnate  of  Tokio, 
our  host  having  arranged  the  visit  beforehand.  After  a 
long  drive  in  a  landau,  which  was  driven  by  a  Japanese 
coachman  garbed  in  a  dark-blue  kimono  and  mushroom 
hat,  with  a  "belto,"  or  groom,  dressed  in  the  same  way,  on 
the  box,  we  came  to  the  two  houses.  One  was  European, 
full  of  fine  things,  while  the  other,  in  which  the  owner 
lived,  was  Japanese.  Having  removed  our  shoes,  we 
were  taken  over  it.  I  wish  I  could  describe  its  fascina- 
tions; but  where  there  were  no  ornaments,  no  furniture, 

331 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

no  pictures  save  a  kakemono  here  and  there,  no  curtains, 
no  color  anywhere,  it  is  difficult  to  say  wherein  lay  the 
charm.  And  yet  it  was  charming.  The  fineness  of  the 
matting,  the  beauty  and  workmanship  of  the  woodwork, 
the  lacquer  frames  of  the  screens,  which  were  so  ad- 
justed that  they  parted  at  a  touch  without  a  sound,  the 
extraordinary  cleanliness  everywhere,  and,  above  all,  the 
different  little  courts  on  which  the  rooms  looked,  were 
delightful.  The  bath-room  particularly  pleased  me. 
Made  of  some  light-colored  wood,  it  shone  like  satin  and 
felt  like  it.  A  delicate  carving  round  the  base  of  the 
wall,  representing  flights  of  birds,  formed  a  dado;  two 
large  wooden  tubs  of  the  same  wood  stood  at  the  end  of 
the  room,  encircled  by  brass  bands  beautifully  polished, 
and  half  a  dozen  tubs  of  different  sizes  stood  on  a  low 
table;  the  w^indow  looked  out  upon  a  small  court  with 
one  large  magnolia-tree  and  a  very  old  gray-stone  lan- 
tern. Another  room,  a  sanctum  sanctorum^  where  the 
"tea  ceremonies"  were  held,  gave  upon  a  wild  scene  ten 
feet  square,  where  jagged  rocks,  prickly  bushes,  and 
rushing  torrents  spanned  by  stone  bridges,  appeared  in 
pleasant  contrast  to  the  urbanities  and  rigid  etiquette  of 
these  ceremonies.  The  smoking-room,  made  by  open- 
ing and  closing  a  screen,  looked  out  upon  a  lake  artifi- 
cially and  cleverly  planned,  with  beautiful  trees  and 
shrubs  on  its  banks,  and  rocks  of  strange  and  varied 
colors.  These  rocks  alone  cost  a  fabulous  sum,  and  had 
been  brought  from  a  great  distance.  The  lake  was 
fed  from  the  sea,  and  as  the  sun  was  setting  we  watched 
the  fish  jumping  high  in  the  air.  Walking  round  the 
gardens  until  it  was  nearly  dark,  every  turn  of  the  path 
presented  an  absolutely  new  aspect,  the  variety  being 

332 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

marvelous.  The  gardens  and  houses  covered  twenty- 
four  acres,  and  seemed  four  times  that  size.  On  our  re- 
turn to  the  European  house,  we  found  rows  of  servants 
and  tables  set  out,  with  all  manner  of  cakes,  sandwiches, 
and  tea,  waiting  for  us.  As  Mr.  Iwasaki  did  not  live 
there,  I  remembered  being  astonished  at  the  elaborate 
preparations.  Captain  Brinkley  told  me  he  thought 
it  was  a  delicate  Japanese  hint  to  him  not  to  bring 
strangers  too  often.  Japanese,  unlike  their  European 
brethren,  do  not  care  to  be  thought  rich,  and  al- 
though hospitable,  are  not  fond  of  showing  their 
houses. 

One  night  I  went  out  for  a  walk  in  the  main  street 
after  dinner,  escorted  by  our  guide.  The  Imperial 
Hotel  at  Tokio,  although  magnificent,  was  rather  stuffy, 
and  every  sort  of  insect  came  in  at  the  windows,  from 
mosquitos  to  green  grasshoppers  three  inches  long.  In 
the  streets,  people  and  vendors  were  selling  their  wares 
on  the  pavement.  The  open  screens  of  the  private 
houses  permitted  us  to  look  through  them;  at  one  the 
sound  of  a  samisen  attracted  me,  and  I  could  not  resist 
stopping  and  looking  in.  Beyond  two  rooms,  by  a  not 
over-bright  light,  I  saw  a  little  Japanese  woman  sitting 
on  a  mat  singing  softly  in  a  minor  key,  accompanying 
herself  on  the  samisen.  I  asked  Matsuda  if  the  women 
minded  publicity.  Looking  very  shy  and  uncomfortable, 
he  said,  "Oh,  Japanese  no  look  in— not  good  manners." 
I  felt  fearfully  crushed. 

Shopping  expeditions  were  always  amusing.    On  one 

occasion  a  Japanese  woman  who  spoke  English,  the  wife 

of  Mr.  Trench's  valet,  accompanied  me,  and  I  invested 

in  some  fascinating  obis,  Mrs.  Tetsu  helping  me  with  her 

i«  333 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

excellent  taste.  Next  we  went  to  a  curio-dealer.  There 
seemed  to  be  no  shop,  but  we  walked  into  a  tiny  garden, 
where,  seated  on  the  floor  of  a  small  house,  was  a  smiling 
old  man,  who  received  us  with  many  bows,  placing  cush- 
ions for  us.  Tea  and  shiny,  brown  cakes  were  brought 
in ;  he  then  produced  a  few  little  boxes,  and,  with  much 
undoing  of  pale  blue-and-green  tapes  and  unfolding  of 
silk  handkerchiefs,  showed  us  lovely  old  bits  of  lacquer, 
china,  and  bronze.  The  more  I  admired,  the  more  he 
smiled  and  brought  forth  treasures,  handling  the  things 
tenderly  as  though  he  loved  them,  which  was  altogether 
enticing.  I  could  not  help  comparing  this  curio-dealer 
with  those  of  Yokohama,  where  they  try  to  please  for- 
eign taste  by  forcing  themselves  to  forget  all  that  is 
best  in  Japanese  art,  producing  vulgar  atrocities  to  catch 
the  eye,  such  as  gold-lacquered  vases  overladen  with 
cloisonne  placques.  There  is  a  form  of  Japanese  art 
which  seems  to  consist  in  the  beauty  of  blemish;  a  vase 
to  which  no  historical  interest  is  attached,  to  our  eyes 
without  beauty  of  form  or  color,  is  of  the  highest  value 
to  the  Japanese  for  the  sake  of  certain  blotches  or  im- 
perfections. I  believe  they  will  give  any  price  for  what 
they  consider  such  a  curiosity,  and  no  one  has  ever  been 
able  to  explain  to  the  most  inquisitive  mind  the  reason 
why. 

Pierre  Loti,  in  one  of  his  charming  descriptions  of 
Japan,  mentions  the  "Imperatrice  Printemps"  in  such 
glowing  terms  that  I  was  very  desirous  of  seeing  her. 
Mr.  Trench  arranged  an  audience,  but  unfortunately  it 
never  came  oif ,  owing  to  the  Empress's  illness,  and  my 
being  obliged  to  leave  Tokio.  I  give  the  Lord  Cham- 
berlain's letters  on  the  subject,  as  they  are  amusing: 

334 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Imperial  Palace, 

September  21,  1894. 
My  dear  Minister  : 

I  am  glad  your  Excellency  came  back  here  so  soon,  I  sent 
telegraph  to  Myanoshita  this  morning. 

I  think  Lady  Randolph  Churchill  and  you  will  be  received  by 
her  Majesty  the  Empress  on  the  26th,  however  I  shall  not  fail 
communicate  to  you  at  once  when  the  day  and  hour  of  the 
audience  is  fixed. 

I  think  Mr.  Ito  told  you  this  morning  about  lady's  dress  was 
mistake,  the  rule  of  our  Court  being  that  a  lady,  at  such 
audience  time,  wears  long  dress  and  high  neck  without  a  bonnet. 

If  a  lady  being  a  traveler,  has  not  got  the  said  costume  I 
remember  she  appeared  in  morning  dress  having  permission  of 
the  Empress  beforehand. 

I  remain. 

Yours  faithfully, 

S.  Sannomiya. 


Imperial  Palace, 

September  24,  1894. 
My  dear  Minister  : 

I  am  sorry  to  inform  you  that  her  Majesty  the  Empress,  as  I 
informed  you  on  Saturday  by  Mr.  Ito,  will  not  be  able  to  receive 
any  one  at  least  till  the  end  of  this  month,  for  doctor  advised  to 
so  do  this  morning. 

I  think  Lady  Randolph  Churchill  may  make  a  short  trip 
during  the  time,  it  would  be  better  for  her. 

I  remain. 

Yours  very  truly, 

S.  Sannomiya. 
335 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

October  5,  1894. 
My  dear  Minister  : 

I  have  at  once  informed  to  her  Majesty  the  Empress  that 
Lady  Randolph  Churchill  is  going  to  leave  Tokio,  she  says  she 
feels  much  sorry  for  not  being  able  to  receive  the  Lady  owing 
to  her  indisposition. 

I  enclose  you  a  letter  of  permission  for  the  old  Palace,  Nijio 
castel,  and  other  two  small  palaces. 

Yours  very  truly, 

S.  Sannomiya. 

Following  beaten  tracks,  we  went  to  Nikko,  where  the 
first  thing  to  attract  my  eyes  was  the  "Sacred  Bridge," 
which  is  very  beautiful,  the  big,  red-lacquered  arch 
spanning  the  white,  turbulent  waters  of  the  rushing 
Daya-Gawa  standing  out  in  picturesque  contrast  to  the 
dark-green  avenue  of  magnificent  crj^^ptomerias.  The 
public  is  not  allowed  to  cross  it,  and  the  Emperor  does 
so  only  once  a  year.  A  garish  electric  light  at  one  end 
was  rather  an  eyesore,  but  reminded  one  of  Japan's  "go- 
aheadness,"  which  places  pot-hats  on  its  men  and  tele- 
graph-poles in  sight  of  its  gods. 

It  was  about  eight  or  ten  degrees  colder  at  Nikko  than 
at  Tokio,  and  we  shivered  in  our  little  summer  rooms, 
notwithstanding  attempts  at  a  charcoal  fire.  We  made 
many  expeditions,  one  day  to  the  falls  of  Kiri-furi- 
notaki,  and  on  another  we  walked  to  see  the  stone  images 
at  Kamman-sa-fuchi,  said  to  be  the  offerings  to  the  gods 
of  Nikko  of  Shodo  Shonun,  the  "Opener  of  the  Moun- 
tains," who  lived  somewhere  about  the  seventh  century, 
and  was  supposed  to  be  a  very  holy  man.  We  counted 
the  figures,  and  each  made  out  a  different  number,  which 

336 


From  a  stereograph,  copyright,  1904,  by  Underwood  &  Underwood,  New  York 
THE  YOMEIMON  GATE  AT  NIKKO 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

was  quite  the  correct  thing  to  do;  for,  according  to  the 
legend,  no  two  people  are  able  to  count  them  alike. 
Close  by  an  inaccessible  stone  in  mid-stream,  with  the 
Sanskrit  word  "Hamman,"  carved  on  it,  was  pointed 
out  to  us.  Kobe  Daishi,  a  saint,  is  supposed  to  have 
thrown  his  pen  at  the  stone,  and  marked  it  forever. 

Armed  with  a  special  permit  which  Mr.  Trench  had 
obtained  for  us,  we  were  able  to  visit  the  inner  shrines 
of  the  two  finest  temples,  lye-yasu  and  lye-mitsu. 
Great  expectations  generally  mean  disappointments,  but 
the  realities  and  beauties  of  the  former  temple  far  sur- 
passed my  imagination.  The  surroundings  of  the  shrines 
were  most  beautiful:  the  grand,  solemn  approach  of 
huge  cryptomerias ;  the  imposing  flights  of  stone  steps 
covered  with  the  moss  of  ages ;  the  splendid  granite  Torii 
standing  out  in  solitary  grandeur  against  the  sky,  mak- 
ing a  fine  picture;  and  half-hidden  in  the  dark-green 
foliage  a  quaint  five-storied  pagoda,  its  color  giving  the 
touch  of  warmth  needed.  The  temple  has  been  so  often 
described  that  I  cannot  venture  on  it ;  indeed,  one  might 
visit  it  every  day  for  a  week  and  not  master  its  beauties. 
The  marvelous  carvings,  the  frescoed  ceilings,  the  gold 
lacquer,  the  bronzes,  and  the  lovely  old  brocades,  were 
entrancing.  With  our  special  permit  we  were  treated 
with  much  respect,  being  received  by  the  chief  priest  in 
person,  supported  by  six  minor  priests.  After  passing 
the  Yomeimon  Gate,  which  is  truly  wonderful,  with  its 
hundreds  of  dragons  and  carved  flowers,  we  passed  un- 
der another,  Karamon  by  name,  and  so  into  the  temple, 
where  the  two  priests  knelt  at  the  entrance  of  the  inner 
shrine,  one  in  bright  green,  with  a  conical  black  cap,  the 
other  in  a  transparent  white  garment.    Inside  this  holy 

339 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

of  holies  the  chief  priest  also  knelt.  The  light  was  so 
dim  I  could  not  make  out  what  he  had  on,  and  I  confess, 
what  with  the  solemnity  of  the  priests,  the  gorgeousness 
of  the  surroundings,  the  dim  religious  light,  and  the  air 
heavy  with  incense,  I  felt  my  curiosity  must  be  kept 
under,  and  did  not  like  to  gaze  about  too  much.  Here 
Matsuda,  our  guide,  prostrated  himself,  beating  his  head 
so  many  times  that  I  wondered  it  did  not  ache.  The 
shrine  consisted  of  a  rather  small  but  beautifully  deco- 
rated room,  with  a  lacquered  ceiling,  containing  only  a 
few  glass  cases  on  the  floor,  with  the  swords  and  armor 
of  lye-yasu,  the  deified  shogun.  A  fourth  door  of  beau- 
tiful gold  lacquer  opened  into  the  last  shrine,  which  is 
shown  only  to  the  Mikado  and  the  chief  priest,  and  which 
contains  the  effigy  of  lye-yasu.  Through  Matsuda  we 
conveyed  our  thanks  to  the  chief  priest,  a  venerable  old 
man  with  a  pleasant  smile,  who  was  dressed  in  a  pale- 
blue  net  garment  over  white,  and  a  conical  black  hat 
with  two  cords  passed  under  his  chin. 

The  inner  shrine  of  the  lye-mitsu,  which  we  also  went 
to  see,  was  much  larger,  and  had  gold  columns  all  round 
the  room ;  on  a  low  table  in  the  center  were  some  sacred 
missals,  incense-burners,  and  vases  with  gold  lotus  flow- 
ers; a  very  fine  canopy  was  suspended  over  it.  This, 
being  a  Buddhist  temple,  contained  more  things  than 
that  of  lye-yasu,  which  was  Shinto,  and  therefore  sim- 
pler. Near  by  the  sacred  white  pony  "Jimme"  was  kept 
"for  the  use  of  the  god"  in  a  sumptuous  stable  in  one 
of  the  courts.  On*  our  way  back  we  met  a  family  party 
of  three  struggling  up  the  steps  in  a  torrent  of  rain,  the 
inconvenience  of  their  dress  being  thoroughly  demon- 
strated.   Monsieur,  in  a  brown  kimono  with  a  mwpgon 

340 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

of  white  petticoat  showing  over  his  socks  and  high 
wooden  pattens,  a  huge  square  pot-hat,  a  pair  of  specta- 
cles, and  a  voluminous  Japanese  umbrella  completing 
the  costume.  Madame,  not  a  hair  out  of  place,  a  sham 
camelia  sticking  up  straight  in  front  of  the  shiny  black 
pouf,  a  mauve  tassel  hanging  in  the  vicinity  of  her 
left  ear,  something  in  the  nature  of  a  green  cord,  a  coral 
bead  or  two,  and  a  couple  of  combs  making  up  her  coif- 
fui'e.  She  wore  a  light-gray  kimono,  on  the  sleeves  of 
which  her  crest  was  embroidered  in  coral ;  her  eri  was  of 
pale  mauve ;  a  black  satin  ohi,  with  some  gold  characters 
on  it,  and  an  extra  high  pair  of  pattens,  made  up  a  very 
effective  dress;  but,  oh!  the  blackened  teeth,  which  pro- 
claimed her  respectability!  Why  must  virtue  be  so 
ugly?  I  must  not  leave  out  "Bebe,"  strapped  on  its 
mother's  back,  fast  asleep;  his  head,  with  its  tiny  tuft 
falling  backward  as  though  it  would  drop  off,  and  the 
bright  red  crape  kimono,  with  green  flowers,  made  him 
look  exactly  like  a  Japanese  doll. 

Deluges  of  rain  drove  us  away  from  weird,  mystical 
Nikko.  It  was  not  possible  to  resist  the  elements,  and 
after  changing  our  clothes  and  boots  three  times  in  one 
day,  we  succumbed. 

We  fitly  ended  our  visit  to  Japan  by  staying  at  the 
best  place  last,  Kioto,  the  ancient  capital,  which  is  con- 
sidered the  art  center  of  Japan.  We  were  enchanted  with 
its  quaintness  and  local  color.  The  view  from  our  rooms 
at  Yaami's  Hotel  was  most  pleasing,  and  the  first  eve- 
ning of  our  arrival  I  gazed  for  a  long  time  at  the  thou- 
sand twinkling  lights  of  the  city  lying  in  the  valley  at 
our  feet,  the  mountains  forming  a  background  in  the 
twilight. 

341 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

We  saw  all  the  sights  of  Kioto  in  ten  days,  visiting 
many  curiosity-shops,  which  were  most  enticing,  and 
spending  many  hours  at  the  cloisonne,  satsuma,  and  silk 
factories.  Here  I  was  shown  beautiful  modern  produc- 
tions which  quite  equal  any  ancient  Chinese  or  Japanese. 
Although  it  is  said  that  all  the  really  fine  objects  of  art 
have  left  Japan  and  China,  and  are  to  be  found  in 
America  or  in  London,  there  were  many  very  attractive 
things. 

The  streets  at  night  were  a  most  attractive  sight,  par- 
ticularly Theater  Street,  in  which  no  jinrikishas  were  al- 
lowed. It  was  crowded  with  people  and  lighted  up  with 
Chinese  lanterns.  Outside  each  theater  wonderful  paint- 
ings were  exhibited,  representing  the  different  blood- 
curdling dramas  going  on  within.  We  went  into  a 
playhouse  of  actresses,  and  saw  two  acts  of  the  usual 
impossible-to-comprehend  Jajjanese  play:  wonderful 
clothes,  daimyos  in  full  war-costume,  females  in  distress, 
tears  and  sobs,  which  were  echoed  by  the  audience,  and 
of  course  hara-kiri,  performed  in  detail  and  at  much 
length. 

The  Mikado's  palace,  which  we  visited,  had  endless 
reception-rooms,  with  the  usual  screens  and  fine  matting. 
The  Emperor  squats  when  receiving  Japanese,  but  sits 
in  a  chair  when  giving  audience  to  Europeans.  Some 
of  the  ceilings  were  highly  decorated.  His  private  study 
was  a  pleasantly  situated  room  looking  south  upon  a 
garden  and  small  artificial  lake;  its  absolute  quiet  and 
peacefulness  seemed  very  reposeful.  The  castle  being 
older,  and  having  belonged  to  the  shoguns,  was  more 
decorated,  everywhere  the  golden  Tokugawa  crest,  gor- 
geous ceilings,  and  highly  lacquered  screens.    In  the  two 

342 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

or  three  audience-chambers  the  Mikado's  chrysanthe- 
mum replaced  the  three  lotus  leaves.  One  room  was  par- 
ticularly nice,  with  a  small  raised  platform,  where  the 
Emperor,  arriving  from  a  side  room,  would  sit  when  he 
received.  On  the  left  was  a  recess  in  which  were  a  few 
lacquered  shelves  ornamented  with  bits  of  old  cloisonne, 
but  of  a  lovely  blue  they  seem  unable  to  produce  nowa- 
days. A  few  curious  screens  completed  the  rooms.  Af- 
ter Nikko  I  was  too  blase  of  temples  to  go  and  see  many 
in  Kioto;  but  I  did  visit  one  with  thirteen  hundred  and 
thirty-three  gold-lacquered  life-size  images  of  Kwan- 
non,  the  Goddess  of  Mercy;  also  the  new,  unfinished, 
colossal  temple  of  Shokonsha,  where  one  saw  great 
stacks  of  rope  made  of  human  hair,  offerings  from  the 
women  of  Japan.  Near  by  was  a  hideous  great  mound, 
which  made  us  shudder,  containing,  as  it  did,  Korean 
ears  and  noses,  trophies  of  war ! 

The  Governor  of  Kioto,  Nakai  by  name,  died  while  we 
were  there.  He  formed  part  of  the  escort  to  Sir  Harry 
Parkes  when  the  latter,  on  his  waj^  to  have  an  audience 
with  the  Mikado,  was  attacked  by  some  two-sworded 
men,  which  made  a  great  stir  in  Japan  at  the  time.  We 
saw  the  funeral  procession  from  a  curio-dealer's  shop  in 
one  of  the  principal  streets,  which  was  lined  by  a  quiet 
throng,  all  dressed  in  blue  ( the  mourning  color ) .  JNIasses 
of  flowers  in  big  baskets  were  carried  before  the  hearse, 
which  had  the  appearance  of  a  Noah's  ark  borne  on 
men's  shoidders ;  through  the  sliding  panels,  which  were 
open,  one  caught  sight  of  a  cocked  hat  and  feathers. 
Immediately  behind  came  a  jinrikisha,  with  the  daughter 
of  the  deceased  entirely  in  white,  with  her  face  enameled 
to  match.     An  enormous  crowd  followed,  dressed  in 

343 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

kimonos,  and  all  wearing  pot-hats  of  every  conceivable 
shape,  many  with  white  cotton  gloves.  The  effect  was 
ludicrous.  If  people  wonder  what  becomes  of  all  the  old 
hats,  they  have  but  to  go  to  Japan. 

One  of  our  last  expeditions  was  to  the  Lake  of  Biwa. 
It  was  a  long  and  dusty  road,  and  I  found  the  jinrikisha 
very  tiring ;  the  sights  on  the  way,  too,  were  unpleasant. 
It  was  pitiful  to  see  a  mass  of  toiling  peasants  doing  the 
work  of  beasts,  dragging  and  pushing  carts  with  huge 
loads  up  hill  and  down  dale.  All  looked  exhausted,  and 
in  most  cases  a  woman  was  harnessed  in  front  with  a 
rope  across  her  chest.  I  noticed  one  poor  creature  spit- 
ting blood  when  she  reached  the  top  of  the  hill.  The 
lake  was  splendid,  and  we  had  a  fine  view  from  a  temple. 
The  street  where  the  Cesarewitch  (the  present  Em- 
peror) was  attacked  was  pointed  out  to  us.  The  two 
jinrikisha-boys  who  saved  his  life  were  pensioned,  and, 
it  is  said,  given  so  much  money  that  they  lead  an  idle  life, 
and  are  ruined  by  drink.  The  biggest  pine-tree  in 
Japan  grows  at  Biwa,  which,  although  curious,  with  its 
innumerable  gnarled  roots  and  branches  growing  into 
the  ground,  is  so  propped  up  with  poles  that  one  can 
hardly  tell  which  is  the  tree,  and  in  consequence  its  sym- 
metry is  lost. 

We  also  saw  the  rapids  of  Katsuregawa,  being  skil- 
fully forced  up  them  in  a  sampan.  The  hills  on  each 
side  looked  lovely,  with  every  sort  of  autumnal  tint,  the 
red  maple  leaves  just  turning.  The  monotony  of  our 
long  drive  back  was  relieved  by  a  most  beautiful  sunset, 
the  moon  rising  while  the  sky  was  still  of  the  brightest 
pink  wdth  glimpses  of  turquoise  blue,  the  trees  and 
quaint  cottages  standing  out  in  deep  brown  against  it. 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

We  rejoined  our  ship,  the  Ancona,  at  Kobe,  on  our 
way  to  China,  more  than  sorry  to  leave  Japan,  restful 
country  of  enchantment,  land  of  courteous  men  and 
soft-voiced  women.  For  months  my  ears  still  listened 
for  the  two  most  characteristic  sounds  in  Japan — the 
tap-tap  of  the  little  pipe  as  it  is  emptied  before  being 
refilled,  and  the  mournful  notes  of  the  reed  lute  which 
the  blind  masseur  plays  as  he  walks  through  the  village 
street. 

On  board  the  Ancona  we  found  Mr.  de  Bunsen,  the 
present  English  Ambassador  to  Spain;  also  a  young 
officer  who  was  returning  to  India  having  wasted  all 
his  leave  in  trying  to  see  something  of  the  war,  but 
without  success,  the  Japanese  authorities  proving  too 
much  for  him.  Mr.  de  Bunsen,  an  old  friend  of 
mine,  whom  I  had  known  in  Paris  when  he  was  in  the 
embassy  there,  was  at  that  time  military  attache  at  Bang- 
kok. It  was  a.great  pleasure  to  see  him  again.  He  told 
me  many  interesting  things  about  Siam  and  his  life  there, 
and  tried  to  persuade  us  to  pay  him  a  visit. 

Three  days  exhausted  the  sights  of  Hong-Kong,  the 
magnificent  view  being  the  principal  attraction.  My 
amusement  consisted  in  going  up  and  down  the  steep 
tramway  to  the  peak  two  or  three  times  a  day.  Many  of 
the  houses  were  in  a  dilapidated  condition,  owing  to  the 
last  typhoon.  We  made  a  flying  visit  to  Canton,  going 
up  the  Pearl  River  in  a  large  steamer  which  had  an  Eng- 
lish captain.  As  I  entered  the  ship,  I  caught  sight  of 
stacks  of  rifles  in  the  saloon,  with  printed  instructions 
to  the  passengers  to  use  them  if  necessary.  This  did  not 
make  me  feel  at  all  safe,  these  river  steamers  having 

345 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

been  known  to  be  attacked  by  pirates.  At  Hong-Kong 
we  were  advised  not  to  go  to  Canton,  since,  owing  to  the 
war  and  their  defeat,  the  Chinese  were  in  rather  a  turbu- 
lent state.  We  thought,  however,  as  we  meant  to  spend 
only  the  day  there,  we  should  be  safe  enough.  The 
steamer  was  obliged  to  anchor  at  the  mouth  of  the  river, 
as  there  were  torpedoes  laid  across  it,  and  the  Chinese 
pilots  were  rather  vague  as  to  their  locality.  It  was  a 
lovely  moonlight  night,  and  I  remember  the  ghostly  ef- 
fect of  a  search-light  from  a  fort  near  by,  which  was 
constantly  being  turned  on  us,  lighting  up  strange  crafts 
and  great,  lumbering  Chinese  junks  with  square  sails 
which  hovered  near. 

At  Canton  we  were  at  once  surrounded  by  a  flotilla 
of  sampans  and  junks.  Our  guide,  A.  Cum  by  name, 
had  arranged  everything  for  us,  and  we  found  a  row  of 
palanquins,  each  with  three  men,  waiting.  Mine  was 
bright-green,  lined  with  pale-blue,  and  supplied  with 
transparent  blinds.  Not  being  a  Chinese  lady,  I  insisted 
on  having  them  all  pulled  up.  Our  carriers  went  at  a 
swinging  pace  through  the  labyrinth  of  narrow,  crowded 
streets,  uttering  loud  cries  to  the  people,  whom  we  were 
scattering  right  and  left,  to  get  out  of  the  way.  The 
streets  were  full  of  open  shops,  banners,  Chinese  lan- 
terns, and  gaudy  signs.  A  continuous  stream  of  people 
hurrying  along  made  it  a  most  animated  scene.  They 
scowled  and  glared  at  us  as  we  passed,  calling  us  "Frank- 
wei"  ("foreign  devils"),  and  they  spat  at  one  of  our 
party  and  hit  another,  who  luckily  did  not  retaliate, 
otherwise  we  might  have  been  made  into  mincemeat. 
The  shops  were  very  attractive,  and  Randolph  bought 
me  one  of  the  green  jade  bangles  which  have  since  be- 

346 


i 


■^^ 

^~=^ 


■^. 


SCHWH  DAGON  I'AGODA,  SINGAPORE 


go\i;kn.mi:nt  iioise.  sixgapuki; 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

come  fashionable.  It  is  supposed  to  keep  the  devil  away, 
and  I  still  wear  it. 

A  visit  to  the  execution-ground  was  not  so  attractive. 
Eight  men  had  been  decapitated  a  few  days  before,  and 
the  blood  was  still  on  the  ground.  We  were  asked  if  we 
would  like  to  see  the  heads,  which  had  been  placed  in 
jars,  an  offer  declined  with  thanks.  Some  of  our  party, 
having  been  told  by  the  captain  and  officers  of  the  boat 
that  our  expedition  was  rather  a  dangerous  undertaking 
unless  we  were  prepared  to  "turn  the  other  cheek"  at 
anj^  insult,  persuaded  us  to  get  back  to  the  ship  as 
quickly  as  we  could.  So  after  luncheon  at  an  old  palace 
called  "The  Garden  of  Flowers,"  we  started  on  our  re- 
turn journey,  being  rushed  through  more  streets,  some- 
times meeting  a  "towkee,"  or  mandarin,  surrounded  with 
many  attendants.  It  was  then  a  case  as  to  whose  criers 
could  make  the  most  noise. 

We  returned  to  Hong-Kong,  and  left  the  next  day 
for  Singapore,  Mr.  de  Bunsen  going  with  us.  Sir  John 
and  Lady  Mitchell  invited  us  to  Government  House, 
where  we  stayed  a  week.  I  found  the  heat  for  the  first 
time  nearly  imbearable ;  it  was  like  a  vapor  bath,  and  so 
enervating  that  one  felt  absolutely  incapable  of  doing 
anything.  However,  I  was  delighted  with  the  beauty  of 
the  tropical  plants,  especially  the  traveler's  palm,  its 
height  and  symmetry  being  a  revelation. 

The  Malay  villages  perched  on  poles  were  very  pic- 
turesque, particularly  those  in  the  cocoanut  plantations 
near  the  sea.  In  the  town  every  nationality  seemed  to 
be  represented  in  the  streets— Malays,  Chinese,  Hindus, 
Klings,  Japanese,  and  Europeans  of  all  countries,  the 
Chinese,  who  own  all  the  best  houses,  predominating. 

349 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

The  late  Sultan  of  Johore  gave  us  a  sumptuous  luncheon 
at  his  palace  which  lasted  as  long  as  a  lord  mayor's  feast. 
The  house  was  a  curious  mixture  of  good  and  bad  taste ; 
a  few  real  objects  of  art,  such  as  old  lacquered  cabinets 
and  boxes  and  fine  Satsuma  vases,  were  lost  in  a  sea  of 
tawdriness  and  vulgarity.  In  one  room  the  tables  and 
chairs  were  made  of  cut-glass,  upholstered  in  bright- 
blue  velvet,  with  glass  buttons!  After  luncheon  the 
Sultan,  who  was  a  charming  and  courteous  old  man,  sent 
for  his  Sultana  to  come  and  see  us.  She  was  a  verv 
pretty  Circassian  of  about  twenty-five,  a  present  from 
the  Sultan  of  Turkey.  Enormously  fat,  we  were  told 
that  she  was  fed  every  two  hours,  the  Sultan  admiring 
large  proportions.  Her  costume  was  most  peculiar,  to 
say  the  least — a  Malay  sarong  of  silk;  a  blouse  with  huge 
diamond  buttons ;  round  her  neck  a  riviere  of  diamonds, 
and  one  of  sapphires;  and  on  her  short,  black  curls, 
cocked  over  one  ear,  a  velvet  glengarry  cap  with  an 
eagle's  feather  and  a  diamond  aigret.  The  Sultan, 
thinking,  I  suppose,  that  she  had  been  seen  enough,  sud- 
denly pointed  with  a  stern  gesture  to  the  door.  Casting 
a  frightened  glance  at  him,  she  fled  as  fast  as  her  fat 
little  feet  could  take  her. 

At  the  end  of  the  week  we  started  for  Rangoon  in 
company  with  Sir  Frank  Swettenham,  Resident  of  Pe- 
rak  and  later  Governor  of  Singapore.  Mr.  Swetten- 
ham, as  he  then  was,  went  only  as  far  as  Penang  with 
us,  which  we  regretted,  as  he  proved  a  very  entertaining 
companion.  A  man  of  exceptional  intelligence,  he  was 
virtually  the  ruler  of  the  Straits  Settlements,  and  cer- 
tainly no  one  better  understood  the  natives,  and  how  to 
treat  them.    His  books  "Malay  Sketches"  and  "Unad- 

350 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

dressed  Letters"  are  deservedly  popular.  Rangoon  was 
an  agreeable  disappointment,  for  although  the  heat  was 
great,  it  was  dry,  and  therefore  bearable. 

The  Governor,  Sir  Charles  INIackenzie,  and  Lady 
Mackenzie  were  away,  but  they  had  placed  Government 
House  at  our  disposal.  I  found,  to  my  surprise,  a  plea- 
sant company  of  English  people,  who  entertained  us 
most  hospitably,  and  amused  themselves  playing  golf 
and  polo,  which,  considering  the  heat,  was  most  ener- 
getic. 

I  was  taken  to  see  the  Royal  Lakes,  which  are  gor- 
geous and  beautifully  kept,  with  a  wealth  of  tropical 
plants  and  variegated  flowers,  great  bushes  of  alaman- 
ders  growing  in  wild  profusion  at  the  edge  of  the  lakes, 
bougainvilleas  climbing  everywhere,  and  a  tree  of  which 
I  did  not  find  out  the  name  with  dark-green  foliage  and 
large  bunches  of  red  flowers  like  grapes.  As  we  drove 
by,  I  saw  half  a  dozen  priests  in  their  yellow  "tamains" 
or  robes,  worn  like  a  toga,  standing  on  some  marble  steps 
leading  down  to  the  lake.  Behind  them  in  the  setting 
sun  the  great  golden  dome  of  the  Schwe  Dagon  Pagoda 
shone  in  the  distance,  the  whole  forming  a  superb  pic- 
ture. The  pagoda  was  an  endless  source  of  interest, 
and  we  spent  pleasant  hours  among  its  many  shrines.  The 
two  huge  white  stone  dragons  guarding  the  entrance 
stood  out  against  the  deep-blue  sky,  the  waving  palms 
and  tall  cocoanut-trees  in  the  background  forming  an 
Eastern  picture  full  of  light  and  color.  The  lepers  and 
beggars  infesting  the  steps  were  the  only  drawback.  In- 
side, everything  glittered;  temples  inlaid  with  colored 
glass  and  bits  of  mirror  shone  like  jewels  in  the  sun,  their 
graceful  minarets  and  domes  marvelously  carved.    Piled 

351 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

up  before  every  shrine  were  the  offerings  of  the  Faithful, 
conspicuous  among  them  gaudy  umbrellas  with  fringes 
of  gold  or  beads.  I  revisited  the  pagoda  by  moonlight, 
and  was  well  repaid,  as  it  had  lost  the  garishness  and 
tawdriness  apparent  in  the  glare  of  day.  The  spell  of 
silence  was  over  the  whole  scene,  broken  only  by  the  not 
unmelodious  voice  of  a  fanatic  reciting  verses  as  he 
walked  solemnly  round  and  round  his  favorite  shrine. 
I  was  rather  amused  one  day  at  receiving  a  visit  from 
some  relatives  of  the  late  King  Thebaw.  These  were 
three  princesses;  two  of  them  were  young  and  pretty, — 
that  is,  according  to  Burmese  taste,— and  were  swathed 
in  wraps,  even  their  hands  being  hidden,  whereas  the 
third,  who  was  old  and  ugly,  wore  hardly  any  gar- 
ments, as  is  the  custom  of  the  country.  They  pre- 
sented me  with  some  artificial  flowers  made  by  them- 
selves, also  some  cheroots  they  "hoped  I  would  smoke," 
and  departed  in  a  cart  drawn  by  bullocks,  for  thousands 
of  years  the  unchanged  mode  of  conveyance  in  Burmah. 
Poor  things!  Perhaps  they  would  not  have  been  so 
gracious  had  they  realized  that  it  was  my  husband  who 
had  been  instrumental  in  destroying  their  dynasty  and 
annexing  their  country. 

Cholera  was  raging  at  Mandalay,  which,  much  to  our 
chagrin,  prevented  our  going  there.  Randolph  natu- 
rally wanted  to  see  as  much  of  the  country  as  possible, 
he  being  very  proud  of  the  part  he  had  played  in  the 
annexing  of  Burmah  when  at  the  India  Office. 

Crossing  the  Bay  of  Bengal  to  Madras,  we  stayed  a 
few  days  with  Lord  and  Lady  Wenlock  at  Government 
House,  where  we  were  treated  with  the  greatest  kind- 
ness. 

352 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

It  had  been  our  intention  to  travel  for  several  months 
in  India,  but  Randolph's  health,  which  up  to  then  had 
been  good  enough  to  allow  of  his  enjoying  the  tour,  sud- 
denly gave  way.  We  were  obliged  to  curtail  our  further 
travels,  and  proceeding  to  Bombay,  we  embarked  for 
England. 


17 


353 


CHAPTER  XIV 

LORD  AND  LADY  CURZON  — "THE  ANGLO-SAXON  REVIEW" 

IT  was  on  one  of  the  many  visits  I  paid  to  Bradford 
between  1884  and  1886,  when  Lord  Randolph 
Churchill  was  holding  political  meetings  there,  that  I 
remember  for  the  first  time  hearing  Lord  Curzon  of 
Kedleston  (then  Mr.  George  Nathaniel  Curzon)  make  a 
speech.  Called  upon  unexpectedly  to  second  a  resolution, 
he  spoke  with  natural  eloquence  and  an  astonishing  choice 
of  words.  Randolph  predicted  to  me  then  that  he  would 
go  very  far.  We  knew  him  well  while  he  was  still  at 
Oxford  when  he  used  to  come  over  to  Blenheim,  a  dis- 
tance of  only  eight  miles. 

When  he  was  made  Viceroy  of  India,  his  many  friends 
gave  a  farewell  dinner  to  him  and  Lady  Curzon.  The 
speeches  were  most  amusing,  notwithstanding  the  note 
of  sadness  which  prevailed  at  the  prospect  of  losing  for 
several  years  so  delightful  a  couple.  Mr.  George 
Wyndham  contributed  the  following  verses,  which  were 
received  with  great  applause : 

"Eight  years  ago  we  sat  at  your  table : 

We  were  the  guests  and  you  were  the  host. 
You  were  young,  said  the  World,  but  we  knew  you  were  able 

To  justify  more  than  your  friends  dared  boast. 
We  knew  you  would  win  all  wreaths  in  the  end. 
And  we  knew  you  would  still  be  the  same  dear  friend : 

And  that  's  what  we  cared  for  most. 

354 


> 


w 

H 

C 

r 
7: 


D 


N 

o 

5? 


H 

tr 

a 


PC 
H 

P. 

o 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

"You  wrote  us  some  rhymes  wherein  friendship  and  laughter 

Played  in  a  blaze  of  affection  and  jest 
Round  the  name  of  each  one  for  whom  no  years  thereafter 

Could  blunt  the  sharp  edge  of  that  festival's  zest. 
For  we  knew  that  your  motto — 'Let  Curzon  hold 
What  Curzon  held' — was  no  whit  too  bold 

For  its  vaunt  of  your  claim  on  each  guest. 

"Nor  was  it.    We  're  here,  though  eight  years  have  rolled  o'er  us, 
All  fond  of  you,  proud  of  you,  sorry  to  part ; 
And  we  ought,  one  and  all,  to  give  in  one  chorus 

The  send-ofF  you  've  earned  from  our  love  for  your  start. 
But  the  Brave  men  and  Fair  ones,  sealed  of  the  tribe 
Of  Nathaniel,  have  told  one  incompetent  scribe 
To  sing  what  each  feels  in  his  heart. 

"He  obeys :  and  he  bids  you  recall  all  you  chanted 

Of  each  man  and  each  woman  who  sat  at  your  board, 
And,  then,  to  believe  that  the  tributes  you  granted 

Too  kindly  are  now,  and  more  justly,  restored 
To  you  and  the  Lady  whom  none  of  us  knew 
Eight  years  ago ;  but  whom  now,  thanks  to  you. 
We  have  all  of  us  known  and  adored, 

"So  'Go  in  and  win !'    What  's  five  years  but  a  lustre 
To  shine  round  a  name  that  already  shines  bright? 
Then  come  back,  and  we  '11  greet  you  and  go  such  a  'buster* 

As  never  was  seen — no,  not  even  to-night ! 
Come  back  in  five  years  with  your  sheaves  of  new  Fame : 
You  '11  find  your  old  Friends,  and  you  '11  find  them  the  same 
As  now  when  you  gladden  their  sight." 

The  few  brilliant  years  the  Curzons  spent  in  India 
are  too  recent  and  too  familiar  in  people's  minds  for  me 

3.57 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

to  dwell  on  that  time  or  the  tragedy  which  was  so  soon 
to  follow  their  departure.  To  her  great  beauty  Mary 
Curzon  added  grace  of  manner  and  kindness  of  heart, 
and  her  extraordinary  and  unselfish  devotion  to  her  hus- 
band made  her  a  paragon  among  wives.  I  recall  one 
other  remarkable  woman  who  was  equally  devoted  and 
absorbed  in  her  husband's  career,  and  whose  life  was  one 
of  sacrifice  to  duty  and  care  for  others.  This  was  my 
sister-in-law  Fanny,  Lady  Tweedmouth,  without  excep- 
tion the  noblest  character  I  have  ever  met.  Apart  from 
her  brilliant  gifts,  which  made  her  one  of  the  most  popu- 
lar and  influential  political  hostesses  in  England,  her 
sympathy  and  advice  were  a  tower  of  strength  to  all  who 
came  in  contact  with  her.  Indeed,  it  may  be  said  with 
truth  that  society  in  general  and  the  Liberal  party  in 
particular  sustained  an  irreparable  loss  when  her  too 
short  life  ended. 

It  will  always  be  a  regret  to  me  that  I  was  unable  to 
accept  the  Viceroy's  invitation  to  attend  the  great  Dur- 
bar, that  crowning  function  of  a  most  memorable  vice- 
regal reign.  I  often  corresponded  with  Lady  Curzon, 
and  in  one  of  her  letters  she  says : 

Viceroy's  Camp, 

May  18,  1903. 

.  .  .  The  result  of  the  Durbar  for  Empire  more  than  justifies 
the  expenditure  of  £200,000  (the  cost).  The  mere  bringing 
together  of  people  from  the  Chinese  frontier  of  Thibet  and 
Siam,  Burmah,  Bootea,  Nepal,  Gilgit,  Chitral-Swat,  Beluchistan, 
Travancore,  and  Kathiawar  has  been  the  most  marvelous  object 
lesson.  Chiefs  from  the  outer  fringes  of  civilization  who  for 
years  had  been   turbulent,   gasped,  "Had  we  known  we  were 

358 


LADY  CURZON  OF  KEDLESTOX 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

fighting  this  we  should  have  remained  in  peace!"     There  is  no 

doubt  it  was  the  most  surprising  gathering  the  world  has  ever 

seen  or  will  ever  see  again  and  the  "lucky  hand"  of  George's 

organization  amazed  every  human  soul  there.   .   .   .  Forgive  this 

dull  scrawl.     I  am  sticking  to  the  sides  of  the  Himalayas  like  a 

barnacle  with  only  a  three  weeks'  old  copy  of  the  "Times"  to 

make  me  gay  or  witty.    Do  write.    You  are  the  only  person  who 

lives  on  the  crest  of  the  wave  and  is  always  full  of  vitality  and 

success. 

Yours  ever  aiiectionately, 

Mary. 

On  the  eve  of  their  departure  from  England,  the 
Curzons  paid  a  visit  to  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Port- 
land at  Welbeck.  I  was  of  the  party,  and  sitting  next  to 
Lord  Curzon  at  dinner  one  night,  we  approached  a  sub- 
ject which,  without  my  knowing  it  at  the  time,  was 
fraught  with  great  importance  for  me.  In  a  despondent 
mood  I  bemoaned  the  empty  life  I  was  leading  at  that 
moment.  Lord  Curzon  tried  to  console  me  by  saying 
that  a  woman  alone  was  a  godsend  in  society,  and  that  I 
might  look  forward  to  a  long  vista  of  country-house 
parties,  dinners,  and  balls.  Thinking  over  our  conversa- 
tion later,  I  found  myself  wondering  if  this  indeed  was 
all  that  the  remainder  of  my  life  held  for  me.  I  deter- 
mined to  do  something,  and  cogitating  for  some  time 
over  what  it  should  be,  decided  finally  to  start  a  review. 
My  ideas  were  of  the  vaguest,  but  they  soon  shaped 
themselves.  I  consulted  my  friend  Mrs.  Craigie  ("John 
Oliver  Hobbes"),  whose  acquaintance  I  had  made  some 
years  before  at  the  Curzons'.  At  her  house  I  met  various 
people  who  helped  me  with  their  good  counsels,  notably 
Mr.  Sidney  Low,  who  became  much  interested  in  the 

361 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

scheme  and  assisted  me  greatly,  editing  and  bringing 
out  two  numbers  during  my  subsequent  absence  in  South 
Africa.  Mr.  John  Lane,  who  pubhshed  the  first  num- 
bers of  the  Review,  was  full  of  ideas,  and  originated  that 
of  having  a  new  cover  for  each  issue.  ]\Ir.  Cyril  Daven- 
port of  the  British  Museum  joined  the  staff  and  helped 
in  the  selection  of  the  bindings,  which  were  to  be  fac- 
similes of  celebrated  books  of  the  sixteenth,  seventeenth, 
and  eighteenth  centuries.  They  were  mostly  chosen 
from  examples  in  the  British  Museum.  He  also  con- 
tributed a  short  article  descriptive  of  each  cover.  These 
essays  were  excellent,  and  form  a  liberal  education  in 
bookbinding.  JNIr.  Lionel  Cust  of  the  National  Portrait 
Gallery  undertook  to  supervise  the  illustrations,  which 
were  reproduced  as  photogravures,  and  was  indefatiga- 
ble in  finding  original  and  interesting  subjects.  The 
late  Mr.  Arthur  Strong,  librarian  of  the  House  of 
Lords,  and  at  Chatsworth,  was  responsible  for  the  his- 
torical matter.  A  delightful  and  enthralling  period 
began,  which  absorbed  me  from  morning  till  night  in  the 
most  interesting  of  occupations.  I  left  no  stone  un- 
turned to  make  the  Review  a  success,  and  my  friends 
helped  me  con  am  ore.  Sometimes  I  became  a  little  be- 
wildered at  the  conflicting  advice  and  suggestions  that  I 
received.  "Why  don't  you  have  articles  in  three  lan- 
guages?" said  one.  "That  would  damn  it  at  once,"  said 
another.  "Mind  you  have  something  startling  in  the 
first  number,  'New  Ideas  on  Free  Love,'  or  'Sidelights 
on  Royal  Courts.'  "  "Be  lofty  in  your  ambitions ;  set  up 
a  poetical  standard  to  the  literary  world."  "Why  not 
get  a  poem  from  the  Poet  Laureate?"  "Or  an  essay  on 
bimetalism  from  Mr.  Henry  Chaplin."    "Aim  at  a  glo- 

362 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

rified  'Yellow  Book';  that  's  the  thing!"  How  amusing 
it  all  was!  Then  the  title.  Many  were  offered,  from 
"The  New  Anthology"  to  "The  Mentor  of  Mayfair." 
Sir  Edgar  Vincent,  whose  classical  and  literary  educa- 
tion is  backed  by  the  most  admirable  common  sense  sug- 
gested "Anglo-Saxon."  I  thought  the  name  most  apt, 
and  was  enchanted.  "The  Anglo-Saxon" — how  simple! 
It  sounded  strong,  sensible,  and  solid.  Of  course  the 
moment  I  had  settled  on  the  name,  some  obscure  man 
claimed  it  as  being  registered  for  his  still  more  obscure 
paper  or  magazine.  It  seemed  as  difficult  to  find  an  un- 
appropriated title  as  though  I  were  naming  a  race-horse 
instead  of  a  book.  However,  I  found  that  adding  the 
word  "Review"  made  it  quite  safe.  I  had  endless  con- 
sultations with  my  literary  friends,  and  received  valuable 
information  from  JNIr.  John  Morley  and  the  late  Mr. 
Knowles  of  "The  Nineteenth  Century"  as  to  the  finan- 
cial part  of  the  undertaking.  I  gave  a  luncheon  party 
to  introduce  "Maggie,"  as  the  Review  was  affectionately 
called  by  some  of  my  friends.  The  book  in  its  gorgeous 
cover,  the  replica  of  Thevet's  "Vie  des  Hommes  Illus- 
tres/^  which  was  executed  about  1604  for  James  I, 
presented  a  brave  appearance.  If  I  could  only  insure 
that  its  "ramage  se  rapporta  a  son  plumage'^  I  felt  I 
might  indeed  claim  to  have  produced  a  Phoenix. 

The  same  night  I  dined  with  the  Asquiths,  taking  the 
volume  with  me,  where  it  was  received  with  acclamation. 
I  have  the  book  still,  with  all  the  signatures  of  those 
present  wi'itten  on  the  fly-leaf. 

In  explanation  of  my  venture  I  permit  myself  to 
quote  here  the  preface  to  the  first  number,  in  which  I 
tried  to  set  forth  my  aims  and  objects: 

363 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

The  explanation  of  the  production  of  another  Review  will  be 
found  in  the  number  of  those  already  in  flourishing  existence: 
the  excuse  must  be  looked  for  in  these  pages.  Yet  a  few  words 
of  introduction  are  needed  by  this  new-comer  who  comes  into 
the  crowded  world  thus  late  in  the  day,  lest,  in  spite  of  his  fine 
coat,  he  be  thought  an  unmannerly  intruder.  I  desire  to  say 
something  of  his  purpose,  of  his  aspirations,  of  his  nature,  in 
the  hope  that,  if  these  seem  admirable,  good  friends  instead  of 
jostling  will  help  him  through  the  press,  and  aid  him  somewhat 
in  his  journey  toward  the  golden  temple  of  literary  excellence. 

The  first  object  of  every  publication  is  commercial.  "No  one 
but  a  blockhead,"  says  Dr.  Johnson,  "ever  wrote  except  for 
money" ;  and  "The  Anglo-Saxon"  is  not  disposed  to  think  lightly 
of  his  wares,  or  set  low  value  on  his  effort — for  otherwise  his 
green-and-gold  brocade  would  soon  be  threadbare.  But  after 
the  vulgar  necessities  of  life  are  thus  provided  for,  reviews,  and 
sometimes  reviewers,  look  to  other  and  perhaps  higher  ideals. 
It  is  of  those  that  I  would  write,  for  are  they  not  the  credentials 
which  must  carry  the  ambitious  stranger  on  his  way? 

Formerly  little  was  written,  but  much  of  that  little  was  pre- 
served. The  pamphlets,  the  satires,  the  lampoons,  the  disquisi- 
tions— above  all  the  private  letters — of  the  eighteenth  century 
have  been  carefully  stored  for  the  delight  of  succeeding  genera- 
tions. Now  the  daily  production  of  printed  words  is  incalculably 
vast.  Miles  of  newspapers,  tons  of  magazine  articles,  moun- 
tains of  periodicals  are  distributed  daily  between  sunrise  and 
sunset.  They  are  printed;  they  are  read,  they  are  forgotten. 
Little  remains.  And  yet  there  is  no  reason  why  the  best  prod- 
ucts of  an  age  of  universal  education  should  not  be  as  worthy 
of  preservation  as  those  of  a  less  cultivated  era.  The  literary 
excellence  of  the  modern  Review  is  high.  How  many  articles, 
full  of  solid  thought  and  acute  criticism,  of  wit  and  learning, 
are  born  for  a  purely  ephemeral  existence,  to  be  read  one  day 
and   cast   into   the  waste-paper   basket   the  next.''      The   most 

364 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

miserable  lampoons  of  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne  are  still  extant. 
Some  of  the  finest  and  cleverest  productions  of  the  reign  of 
Queen  Victoria  are  almost  as  difficult  to  find  as  ancient  manu- 
scripts. The  newspapers  of  to-day  light  the  fires  of  to-morrow. 
The  magazine  may  have  a  little  longer  life.  It  rests  on  the 
writing  table  for  perhaps  a  month;  and  thereafter  shares  the 
fate  of  much  that  is  good  in  an  age  that,  at  least  in  art  and 
literature,  takes  little  thought  for  the  future.  The  sure  know- 
ledge that  their  work  will  perish  must  exert  a  demoralizing 
effect  on  the  writers  of  the  present  day.  Newspapers  and 
periodicals  become  cheaper  and  cheaper.  To  satisfy  the  loud 
demand  of  the  enormous  and  growing  reading  public,  with  the 
minimum  of  effort,  is  the  modern  temptation. 

I  do  not  imagine  that  "The  Anglo-Saxon  Review"  will  arrest 
these  tendencies.  But  its  influence  may  have  some  useful  effect. 
This  book  is  published  at  a  price  which  will  insure  its  respectful 
treatment  at  the  hands  of  those  who  buy  it.  It  will  not  be  cast 
aside  after  a  hurried  perusal.  It  appears,  too,  in  a  guise  which 
fits  it  for  a  better  fate.  After  a  brief,  though  not  perchance 
unhonored  stay  on  the  writing  table,  it  may  be  taken  up  into 
that  Valhalla  of  printed  things — the  library.  More  than  this, 
that  it  may  have  company,  another  of  similar  character,  but 
different  design  will  follow  at  an  interval  of  three  months,  until 
a  long  row  of  volumes — similar  but  not  alike — may  not  only 
adorn  the  bookshelves,  and  recall  the  elegant  bindings  of  former 
times,  but  may  also  preserve  in  a  permanent  form  something  of 
the  transient  brilliancy  of  the  age. 

It  is  with  such  hopes  that  I  send  the  first  volume  out  into  the 
world — an  adventurous  pioneer.  Yet  he  bears  a  name  which 
may  sustain  him  even  in  the  hardest  of  struggles,  and  of  which 
he  will  at  all  times  endeavor  to  be  worthy,  a  name  under  which 
just  laws,  high  purpose,  civilizing  influence,  and  a  fine  language, 
have  been  spread  to  the  remotest  regions. 

Lastly,  I  would  in  this  brief  note  express  my  sincere  thanks  to 

365 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

all  who  have  helped  to  fit  "The  Anglo-Saxon"  for  the  battle  of 
life — not  only  to  those  who  have,  as  subscribers,  furnished  him 
with  his  costly  habit,  but  also  to  those  who — like  the  fairy  god- 
mother in  the  child's  story — have  given  him  something  of  their 
energy,  their  wisdom  and  their  brains. 

Among  my  most  valued  contributors  was  Lord  Rose- 
bery,  who,  on  account  of  his  great  friendship  with  Ran- 
dolph and  out  of  kindness  to  me,  wrote  for  the  first  num- 
ber a  short  essay  on  Sir  Robert  Peel.  Later,  in  one  of 
the  subsequent  volumes  an  article  appeared  which,  to  my 
regret,  criticized  his  political  opinions.  I  had  gone  to 
Scotland  thinking  the  number  was  completed  as  I  had 
seen  it,  but  owing  to  the  exigencies  of  time  and  space, 
the  offending  article  had  been  substituted  at  the  last  mo- 
ment. I  was  very  much  annoyed,  but  it  could  not  be 
helped.  Writing  to  Lord  Rosebery,  I  told  him  how 
grieved  I  was  that  anything  even  approaching  criticism 
of  him  should  have  appeared  in  my  review,  and  received 
the  following  characteristic  answer : 

Dalmeny  House, 

Edinburgh,  September  28,  1901. 
...  It  is  very  good  of  you  to  write  to  me  about  — ^ — ^'s  article. 
But  I  had  not  even  heard  of  it.  Frankly,  I  ceased  to  be  a  sub- 
scriber after  the  previous  number,  in  which  I  perceived  the 
cloven  hoof  of  politics.  Frankly,  also,  I  think  the  introduction 
of  politics  into  "The  Anglo-Saxon"  a  great  mistake.  But  you 
are  a  better  judge  of  this  than  I  am. 

As  to  Mr. h  article,  I  think  it  very  unlikely  that  I  shall 

ever  see  it,  and  am  quite  sure  that,  if  I  do,  it  will  not  trouble 
me.    But  I  tender  my  humble  and  hearty  thanks  to  the  Editress. 

366 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

On  looking  back  at  the  early  period  of  the  Review, 
I  often  wonder  how  I  should  have  succeeded  without 
Pearl  Craigie's  intelligent  help  and  advice.  A  woman 
of  great  sympathies,  her  unselfishness  was  realized  by  all 
who  ever  came  in  contact  with  her,  and  her  valuable  time 
was  always  at  the  disposal  of  any  one  she  could  help. 
It  is  not  for  me  here  to  dwell  on  her  literary  gifts,  her 
works  speak  for  themselves.  A  brilliant  and  clever  con- 
versationalist, she  could  hold  her  own  with  all  manner  of 
men,  and  yet,  in  the  more  frivolous  company  which  she 
often  frequented  and  thoroughly  enjoyed,  she  never 
talked  over  people's  heads.  She  had  the  art  of  drawing 
every  one  out  and  making  them  appear  at  their  best,  so 
different  to  some  clever  women  writers  I  have  met.  I 
recall  a  luncheon  party  being  wrecked  owing  to  the  pres- 
ence of  a  well-known  authoress,  who  persistently  directed 
the  conversation  on  her  own  subjects,  which  were  as  eru- 
dite and  pedantic  as  they  were  uncongenial  to  the  rest  of 
the  company. 

I  always  made  it  a  point  to  go  to  Mrs.  Craigie's  plays, 
and  we  had  many  discussions  about  them.  In  reference 
to  "A  Repentance,"  which  she  asked  me  to  see  and 
give  my  candid  opinion  upon,  she  wrote  me  the  follow- 
ing letter: — 

56  Lancaster  Gate,  W.,  Wednesday,  1899. 
My  dearest  Jennie  : 

I  shall  loxje  to  hear  your  honest  criticism.  The  play  of  course 
is  about  Spanish  Catholics :  the  man  is  not  meant  to  be  a  hero, 
but  he  is  a  typical  Carlist.  The  gist  of  his  speeches  show  the 
political  "talk,"  as  it  were,  of  the  Period.  My  object  was  not  to 
display  inhuman  excellence,  but  a  psychological  diagram  of  the 
Carlist  question!     Perhaps  this  is  too  daring  an  experiment  for 

367 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

the  stage.  All  the  same,  the  experiment  was  worth  trying. 
Browning,  in  his  dramatic  romances,  always  made  a  soul's  crisis 
(lasting  but  a  few  moments)  the  test  of  a  life.  I  thought  this 
might  be  done  on  the  stage.  Some  people  love  the  play :  others 
don't  like  it  at  all.  So  long  as  they  admit  that  it  is,  at  all 
events,  carefully  composed,  I  mind  nothing  else.  You  are  quite 
right — too  right,  my  dear,  about  the  squalid  side  of  literary 
life.  Sometimes  I  get  so  sick  of  it  that  I  long  to  retire  to  some 
lonely  hilltop  and  meditate  on  the  Four  Last  Things!  But — 
after  all — we  cannot  make  terms  with  existence:  we  must  culti- 
vate our  garden  and  a  sense  of  humor:  and  for  the  rest,  Al- 
mighty God  and  the  devil  can  deal  with  that. 

Yours  ever  affectionately, 

Pearl  Mary  Teresa  C. 

I  thought  the  play  most  interesting,  but  too  con- 
densed. There  was  tragedy  enough  in  the  one  act  to 
make  a  substantial  play  of  three.  The  critics  were  not 
overkind,  and  I  wrote  telling  her  that  the  general  public 
were  much  better  judges  than  the  ordinary  theater  critic, 
who  was  under  the  delusion  that  he  could  make  or  mar 
any  unfortunate  playwright  with  a  wave  of  his  pen. 

To  this  she  replied: 

I  love  your  letter.  You  recognize  humanity  when  it  Is  drawn. 
Des  Escas  is  a  man :  the  Countess  is  a  real  Spanish  Catholic  of 
the  devout  type.  I  dared  not  give  the  English  public  two  acts 
about  "foreigners."  They  all  like  "A  Repentance,"  but  it  is 
against  their  will.  They  have  no  instinctive  interest,  such  as 
we  feel,  in  foreign  politics  or  other  races.  All  the  same,  the 
play  has  held  its  own,  and  it  is  well  received  at  every  perform- 
ance. Alexander  is  the  one  manager  in  London  who  will  try 
experiments,  and  he  always  responds  to  good  art,  good  music, 

368 


MRS.  CRAIGIE  (JOHN  OLIVER  HOBBES) 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

and  the  like.  Remember  what  the  English  stage  is :  the  dramatic 
critics  are  not  all  educated  men  like  William  Archer  and  Walk- 
ley,  the  public  are  patient,  the  actors  mostly  amateurs. 

To-morrow  I  will  send  you  my  proposed  contribution  to  your 
Quarterly.  Say  just  what  you  think  of  it:  the  length  is  under 
9000  words.  This  ought  not  to  be  too  long  for  those  pages. 
Poor  Stephen  Phillips — it  is  hard  indeed  for  him  to  have  his 
magnificent  tragedy  published  before  it  is  acted.  What  an  out- 
rage it  would  be  if  these  uneducated  pressmen  had  the  first  fling 
at  work  of  such  quality ! 

Yours  ever  affectionately. 

Pearl  Mary  Teresa  C. 
Again  she  writes : 

...  As  for  criticism,  if  one  gives  work  to  the  general  public, 
one  has  to  accept  the  fate  of  an  "Aunt  Sally"  so  far  as  the 
journalists  are  in  question.  These  detest  every  educated  in- 
fluence, particularly  on  platforms  and  on  the  stage.  They  fear 
the  brightening  of  the  average  intelligence,  for,  in  the  imbecility 
of  the  mob  (well-dressed  and  otherwise)  is  the  hack  journalist's 
strength.  But  the  times  are  changing  rapidly.  The  mob — as 
a  mob — is  becoming  well  read,  even  philosophical.  The  press 
in  England  has  less  power,  and  the  country  more  power,  every 
day.  Mistakes  are  certainly  made  in  the  House  of  Commons 
(where  the  average  intelligence  is  not  startling)  because  it  is 
assumed  that  electors  and  others  are  mentally  afflicted!  I  see 
much  of  the  laboring  classes  and  the  Nonconformist  classes ;  the 
individuality  and  independence  of  each  unit  in  these  forces  is 
extraordinary.  I  hold  that  nothing  (either  in  good  sense  or 
high  art)  is  really  beyond  them.  Where  they  don't  wholly 
comprehend,  they  are  slow  in  forming  judgments.  They  reject 
nothing  hastily.  The  discipline  of  their  daily  lives  is  the  best  of 
educations,  and,  where  the  so-called  lower  classes  of  England  are 
concerned,  I  am  full  of  hope.     Our  trouble  lies  with  the  sham- 

371 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

educated — the  Bounderbys  and  lampooners  of  the  press, — the 
"better  vulgar"  in  middle-class  life.  There  's  a  jaw  for  poor 
Jennie  with  a  big  Quarterly  in  tow !  But  you  will  pull  it  along 
in  splendid  style. 

Yours  ever  affectionately, 

P.  M.  T.  C. 

One  letter  more  to  show  how  strenuous  her  work  was. 
Having  sent  her  an  allegorical  war  medal,  she  replies : 

I  am  delighted  with  the  Medal,  and  shall  regard  it  as  a  trea- 
sure. Few  things  are  so  hard  to  design.  The  artist  has  to  deal  in 
allegory  and  semi-divine  creations  at  a  time  when  allegory  means 
something  inexorably  dull  and  every  one  is  exclaiming,  "Les 
dieux  s'en  vont!"  Forgive  this  scribble.  I  worked  for  nearly 
fourteen  hours  straight  off  at  an  article  for  the  "Times"  people 
— their  new  edition  of  the  Encyclopaedia,  and  as  a  result  I  have 
a  cramped  hand.  The  theme  was  George  Eliot — fortunately  an 
interesting  one.  This  vile  weather  affects  me,  and  I  am  rather 
furious  with  myself  for  giving  up  the  trip  to  Egypt.  But 
actors  and  actresses  need  constant  encouragement.  I  wish  they 
would  remember  the  words  of  the  immortal  Mrs.  Chick  to  Flor- 
ence Dombey :  "If  any  misanthrope  were  to  put  in  my  presence 
the  question,  'Why  were  we  born?'  I  should  reply,  'To  make 
an  effort.'  " 

I  am  working  now  at  my  play  (for  the  Haymarket)  and  a 
new  novel.    I  propose  to  take  my  time  over  both.   .  .   . 

Ever  yours  affectionately, 

Peael  Mary  Teresa  Craigie. 

To  her  many  gifts  Mrs.  Craigie  added  that  of  being 
a  very  good  musician,  and  her  nimble  fingers  could  dis- 
course very  effectively.    We  sometimes  played  together 

372 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

at  concerts,  and  on  one  occasion,  at  the  Queen's  Hall, 
she  and  I  and  Mademoiselle  Janotha  played  Bach's  Con- 
certo in  D  Minor  for  three  pianos,  with  an  orchestra 
from  the  Royal  College  of  Music,  which  was  conducted 
by  Sir  Walter  Parratt.  This  was  the  only  time  I  can 
remember  enjoying  playing  in  public. 

In  the  preface  to  Mrs.  Craigie's  last  book,  Mr.  Choate 
says:  "In  her  brief  day  and  generation  she  contributed 
much  by  her  charming  intellectual  productions  to  the 
entertainment  and  enjoyment  of  hosts  of  English  and 
American  readers,  who  deeply  lament  her  early  death, 
and  in  whose  affections  she  will  hold  a  permanent  place." 
When  one  remembers  that  George  Eliot  began  to  make 
a  great  name  for  herself  only  at  the  age  at  which  my 
poor  friend's  short  life  came  to  a  close,  it  is  possible  to 
prophesy  that,  had  she  lived,  she  would  have  achieved  a 
still  greater  name  and  fame  for  herself.  It  would  have 
been  a  pity  if  the  "John  Oliver  Hobbes"  generation 
had  allowed  posterity  to  forget  her  brilliant  gifts  as  a 
writer  and  her  noble  qualities  as  a  woman  and  a  friend. 
I  am  glad  to  think  I  have  been  instrumental,  with  others 
of  her  friends,  in  getting  up  a  fitting  memorial  to  her. 
A  portrait  medallion  is  now  placed  in  University  Col- 
lege in  London,  where  she  studied,  and  a  scholarship  is 
to  be  given  annually  in  England.  The  same  scheme  has 
been  adopted  in  the  United  States. 

It  is  curious  how  sometimes  "les  heaucc  esprits  se  ren~ 
contrent."  Mrs.  W.  K.  Clifford  sent  me  her  play  "The 
Likeness  of  the  Night"  for  pubhcation  in  "The  Anglo- 
Saxon  Review"  before  it  was  put  on  the  stage.  Shortly 
after  the  appearance  of  the  number  containing  it,  ISIr. 
Sidney  Grundy's  play  "A  Debt  of  Honor"  was  given. 

373 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

There  was  no  doubt  a  great  similarity  between  the  two. 
and  this  led  to  an  animated  correspondence  in  the  press 
between  Mrs.  Clifford  and  Mr.  Grundy.  Both  parties 
were  interviewed,  and  the  literary  and  dramatic  world 
were  much  interested  in  the  controversy,  the  details  of 
which  it  is  unnecessary  for  me  to  dwell  on.  Mrs.  Clif- 
ford, however,  having  in  her  first  letter  said  that  her 
play  was  published  in  "The  Anglo-Saxon  Review"  "for 
all  who  run  and  pay  a  guinea  to  read,"  Mr.  Grundy  re- 
torted: "I  do  not  run,  and  I  did  not  pay  a  guinea;  nor 
have  I  met  any  one  who  did."  This  was  too  much !  Was 
it  possible  that  a  literary  man  existed  who  had  not  read 
mv  review?  And  worse,  did  not  even  know  of  its  ex- 
istence  ?  I  at  once  wrote  to  Mr.  Grundy,  regretting  that 
such  should  be  the  case,  and  sent  him  the  volume  con- 
taining Mrs.  Clifford's  play.  To  this  he  replied  that  I 
"must  perceive  that  his  own  ignorance  of  Mrs.  Clifford's 
play  would  have  mattered  nothing,  if  he  had  met  others 
who  had  told  him  its  story.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  had 
not." 

The  battle  ended  in  peace,  and  the  two  plays  were 
given  with  marked  success. 

The  choice  and  study  of  my  bindings  afforded  me  the 
greatest  pleasure;  there  was  nothing  tentative  about 
them.  I  knew  they  would  be  a  success  and  please  all 
bibliophiles,  for  most  book-lovers  are  particular  about 
the  appearance  of  their  books.  I  remember  once  lend- 
ing Pierre  Loti's  "Madame  Chrysantheme"  to  Mr. 
John  Morley  (now  Lord  Morley  of  Blackburn).  In 
one  of  his  letters  about  it  he  alludes  to  people's  fancies  as 
to  bindings. 

The  first  ran : 

374 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Dear  Lady  Randolph  : 

Thank  you  very  much  for  sending  me  the  book ;  I  will  take  it 

in  such  doses  as  you  prescribe,  unless  I  find  it  too  attractive  to 

lay  down.  .  , 

•'  Yours  smcerely, 

J.    MOBLEY. 

The  doses  must  have  been  microscopic,  for  he  kept  the 
book  so  long  that  I  wrote  to  remind  him  that  he  still 
had  it,  and  received  the  following  answer : 

95  Elm  Park  Gardens, 

South  Kensington,  S.  W. 
Dear  Lady  Randolph  : 

It  cuts  me  to  the  heart  that  I  should  have  given  you  cause  to 
suspect  me  of  being  a  book-stealer.  I  have  suffered  too  much 
from  that  evil  tribe.  But  I  have  kept  the  book  so  long  that  I 
am  almost  as  worthy  of  reprobation  as  if  I  had  lost  it.  The 
truth  is,  that  I  knew  you  were  away  from  home,  and  so  I  kept  it. 
I  am  shocked  to  find  the  dilapidated  condition  of  the  poor  lady. 
I  think,  however,  she  was  rather  ragged  when  she  reached  me. 
I  had  half  a  mind  to  send  her  to  be  bound,  but  I  thought  you 
might  have  fancies  of  your  own  about  bindings,  as  I  have.  The 
book  will  reach  you  to-morrow.  It  has  amused  me  very  much 
indeed,  and  I  am  most  grateful  to  you. 

I  am  devoted  to  French  literature,  but  the  modern  French 

novel  is  rather  too  horrid  for  me,  who  was  reared  on  George 

Sand.  __  .  1 

Yours  smcerely, 

J.   MORLEY. 

In  making  up  each  quarterly  volume  of  "The  Anglo- 
Saxon  Review,"  I  did  not  find  the  difficulty  I  had  an- 

''  375 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

ticipated  in  procuring  fitting  contributors.  The  first 
number  had  estabHshed  its  reputation,  and  although  crit- 
ics were  not  wanting,  it  could  rightly  claim,  on  the 
whole,  to  be  keeping  up  its  standard  of  excellence.  I 
aspired  high;  sometimes  too  high,  as  the  following  let- 
ter shows : 

Walmee  Castle, 

Walmer,  Kent,  July  2,  1899. 
Deae  Lady  Randolph  : 

It  would  give  me  great  pleasure  if  I  could  aid  you  in  any 
way;  but  I  am  not  capable  of  complying  with  your  flattering 
invitation.  My  allowance  of  time  and  energy  are  only  just 
enough  to  enable  me  to  keep  up  with  my  necessary  work.  I  do 
not  feel  it  possible  for  me  to  do  any  literary  work. 

Winston  made  a  splendid  fight — but  the  Borough^  bears  a 
bad  name  for  fickleness. 

Believe  me, 

Yours  very  truly, 

Salisbury. 

I  could  hardly  expect  the  Prime  Minister,  with  the 
affairs  of  the  nation  weighing  on  him,  to  put  them  on 
one  side  to  please  me.  "Mais  qui  ne  risque  rien  n'a  rien," 
and  one  must  aim  high,  even  if  one  falls  short.  I  was 
also  disappointed  at  not  getting  an  article  from  Mr. 
Cecil  Rhodes,  who,  although  not  a  literary  man,  could 
speak  clearly  and  with  great  authority  on  his  own  par- 
ticular subjects. 

I  first  met  him  in  London  in  the  early  eighties.  He 
was  then  a  handsome  young  man,  but  with  a  delicate 
chest,  and  was  just  starting  for  South  Africa,  where  he 

1  Oldham. 

376 


THE    RIGHT    HOX.  CECIL    RHODES 


HIS   HOUSE   AT   CAPE  TO^V•^' 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

hoped  the  wonderful  air  would  cure  him.  This  it  did, 
for  although  he  died  at  a  comj^aratively  early  age,  it  was 
not  from  consumption.  I  remember  once  having  a  most 
interesting  conversation  with  him  over  his  aims  and  am- 
bitions. His  whole  soul  was  bound  up  in  the  future  and 
progress  of  South  Africa,  and  although  he  was  not  a 
self-seeker  in  any  way,  he  was  justly  proud  of  having 
the  immense  province  of  Rhodesia  named  after  him.  In 
his  heart  of  hearts  he  wanted  his  name  to  be  handed 
down  to  posterity  in  this  indelible  manner,  and  he  would 
have  been  bitterly  disappointed  had  any  other  been 
chosen.  When  I  questioned  him  as  to  this,  he  admitted 
it  quite  frankly.  He  was,  I  think,  a  very  happy  man, 
for  he  never  allowed  small  things  to  worry  him,  and  his 
mind  was  not  encumbered  with  the  subtleties  with  which 
so  many  are  hampered.  A  man  of  big  ideas,  he  knew 
what  he  wanted,  and  made  for  the  goal.  He  was  singu- 
larly outspoken.  On  one  occasion,  discussing  a  sculptor, 
he  said : 

"Why  don't  you  let  the  fellow  do  you?  You  've  got 
a  good  square  face."  These  two  letters  are  character- 
istic : 

Vienna,  February,  1899. 
Dear  Lady  Randolph  : 

You  must  think  I  am  very  rude,  but  I  only  got  your  letter 
just  before  starting.  It  was  not  the  secretary's  fault,  but  it 
got  mislaid;  the  excuse  is  that  I  get  about  one  hundred  a  day — 
a  telegram  to  me  is  always  the  surest. 

I  will  come  and  see  you  if  you  will  let  me  on  my  return  in 
about  three  weeks. 

We  are  getting  through  to  Egypt  fairly  well.  Maguire  finds 
that  he  has  to  look  after  and  attend  to  his  servants  as  well  as 

379 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

himself.    I  believe  that  is  the  usual  thing  with  English  servants ; 
they  simply  collapse  and  do  nothing. 

I  am  learning  the  mysteries  of  bridge,  and  even  with  shilling 
points  am  only  30/— to  the  bad.  I  quite  see  that  it  is  an  assured 
income  to  a  thinking  player.  Of  course  the  annoyance — I 
would  say  amusement — is  playing  badly  and  seeing  your  part- 
ner's face ;  it  sometimes  changes  their  manners.  ■ 

Yours, 

C.  J.  Rhodes. 

I  have  been  treated  with  great  urbanity,  in  spite  of  some 
slight  mistakes  such  as  revoking,  etc. 

BuRT^INGTON  HoTEL,  W. 

Dear  Lady  Randolph  : 

I  think  you  will  see  me  on  your  return  from  Paris.  I  will 
try  to  write  something  for  you  on  board  ship,  but  do  not  an- 
nounce it.  I  shall  try  to  do  something  to  help  you  and  my 
cause,  perhaps  my  cause  first  and  you  second,  but  I  shall  see 
you  again. 

Yours, 

C.  J.  Rhodes. 

You  will  have  lots  of  bother,  some  pleasure,  and  you  will  be 
doing  something,  which  is  best  of  all. 

After  all,  women,  remember,  have  great  imagination  and  a 
much  more  delicate  instinct  than  my  sex,  who  are  rough  and 
brutal.    I  think  you  should  have  a  fair  chance. 

Among  many  interesting  contributions,  it  was  with 
much  satisfaction  that  I  received  an  article  from  Ber- 
nard Shaw,  "A  Word  more  about  Verdi,"  beginning: 
"I  have  read  most  of  the  articles  on  Verdi  elicited 
by  his  death,  and  I  have  blushed — blushed  for  my  spe- 

380 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

cies.  By  this  I  mean  the  music-critic  species."  He  ends 
the  article  (which  is  one  to  prove  that  Verdi  was  not  in- 
fluenced by  Wagner)  in  this  wise:  "Certainly,  where  you 
come  to  a  strong  Italian  like  Verdi,  you  may  be  quite 
sure  that  if  you  cannot  explain  him  without  dragging  in 
the  great  Germans,  you  cannot  explain  him  at  all." 

I  venture  to  disagree  with  him,  as  in  "Falstaff  "  I 
think  the  orchestration  is  decidedly  Wagnerian,  com- 
pared to  Verdi's  other  operas,  and  I  remember  at  the 
time  of  its  appearance  it  was  thought  extraordinary  that 
a  man  of  seventy  could  so  alter  his  style.  I  had  met  Mr. 
Shaw  a  few  times.  He  was  tall,  pale,  thin  and  ascetic- 
looking,  with  wonderful,  transparent  eyes ;  his  conversa- 
tion was  unconventional.  Some  correspondence  passed 
between  us  apropos  of  a  luncheon  party  to  which  I  in- 
vited him,  and  which  he,  to  my  chagrin,  refused ;  his  re- 
fusal being  couched  in  such  Shavian  terms  that  I  felt 
justified  in  answering  in  the  same  spirit. 

(Telegram :) 

Certainly  not;  what  have  I  done  to  provoke  such  an  attack 
on  my  well-known  habit  ? 

To  which  I  replied  in  another  telegram : 

Know  nothing  of  your  habits ;  hope  they  are  not  as  bad  as 
your  manners. 

I  then  received  the  following  letter : 

Be  reasonable:  what  can  I  do?  If  I  refuse  an  invitation  in 
conventional  terms,  I  am  understood  as   repudiating  the  ac- 

381 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

qualntance  of  my  hostess.  If  I  make  the  usual  excuses,  and 
convince  her  that  I  am  desolated  by  some  other  engagement,  she 
will  ask  me  again.  And  when  I  have  excused  myself  six  times 
running,  she  will  conclude  that  I  personally  dislike  her.  Of 
course  there  is  the  alternative  of  accepting;  but  then  I  shall 
endure  acute  discomfort  and  starvation.  I  shall  not  have  the 
pleasure  of  really  meeting  her  and  talking  to  her  any  more  than 
if  we  happened  to  lunch  at  the  Savoy  on  the  same  day  by 
chance.  I  shall  get  no  lunch,  because  I  do  not  eat  the  un- 
fortunate dead  animals  and  things  which  she  has  to  provide  for 
the  other  people.  Of  those  other  people,  half  will  abuse  the 
occasion  to  ask  me  to  luncheons  and  dinners,  and  the  other  half, 
having  already  spread  that  net  for  me  in  vain,  will  be  offended 
because  I  have  done  for  you  what  I  would  not  do  for  them.  I 
shall  have  to  dress  myself  carefully  and  behave  properly,  both 
of  which  are  contrary  to  my  nature. 

Therefore  I  am  compelled  to  do  the  simple  thing,  and  when! 
you  say,  "Come  to  lunch  with  a  lot  of  people,"  reply  flatly,  "I 
won't."  If  you  propose  anything  pleasant  to  me,  I  shall  reply 
with  equal  flatness,  "I  will."  But  lunching  with  a  lot  of  people 
— carnivorous  people — is  not  pleasant.  Besides,  it  cuts  down 
my  morning's  work.  I  won't  lunch  with  you ;  I  won't  dine  with 
you ;  I  won't  call  on  you ;  I  won't  take  the  smallest  part  in  your 
social  routine;  and  I  won't  ever  know  you  except  on  the  most 
special  and  privileged  terms,  to  the  utter  exclusion  of  that  "lot 
of  other  people"  whose  appetites  you  off^ered  me  as  an  entertain- 
ment. Only,  if  I  can  be  of  any  real  service  at  any  time,  that  is 
what  I  exist  for ;  so  you  may  command  me.  To  which  you  will 
no  doubt  reply,  "Thank  you  for  nothing;  you  would  say  the 
same  to  anybody."  So  I  would,  but  it  is  a  great  concession  to 
write  it  at  such  length  to  a  lady  who  has  bludgeoned  me  with  an 
invitation  to  lunch.    So  there ! 

Yours  sincerely, 

G.  Beenard  Shaw. 
382 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Among  the  many  criticisms  of  "The  Anglo-Saxon"  the 
one  which  amused  me  the  most  appeared  in  "The  Satur- 
day Review," — a  slating  article  saying  among  other 
things  that  it  was  a  swindle  to  ask  people  to  pay  a  guinea 
for  a  book  which,  however  magnificent  in  appearance, 
was  not  tooled  by  hand.  This  was  too  much  for  my 
proprietary  pride,  and  I  posted  off  to  the  British  Mu- 
seum to  see  my  friend  Mr.  Davenport.  "Look  at  this 
for  honest  criticism,"  I  cried,  flourishing  the  offending 
journal  under  his  eyes.  "What  would  be  the  cost  if  it 
were  real  leather  and  tooled  by  hand?"  In  view  of  the 
elaborate  binding  of  that  particular  volume,  he  thought 
about  £100,  if  not  more.  Delighted  with  my  informa- 
tion, I  then  wrote  to  the  late  Lord  Hardwicke,  who  was 
interested  in  "The  Saturday  Review,"  inclosing  the  criti- 
cism, and  begging  him  to  put  my  facts  under  the  nose 
of  his  "ignorant  reviewer." 

One  of  the  American  notices  ran : 

It  has  been  given  out  that  no  one  but  the  upper  ten  are  to  put 
a  pen  in  it.  However,  Lady  Randolph  is  too  shrewd  to  run  a 
periodical  for  the  amusement  of  the  incapables ! 

Again  some  of  the  newspapers  used  me  as  a  form  of 
advertisement. 

You  pay  five  dollars  for  this  magazine.  It  may  be  good,  but 
you  can  buy  "The  World"  for  a  cent. 

Then  there  were  some  verses  which  appeared  in 
"Books  of  To-day,"  from  the  pen  of  E.  V.  Lucas. 

Have  you  heard  of  the  wonderful  magazine 

Lady  Randolph  's  to  edit,  with  help  from  the  Queen? 

383 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

It  's  a  guinea  a  number,  too  little  by  half, 

For  the  Crowned  Heads  of  Europe  are  all  on  the  staff; 

And  every  one  writing  verse,  fiction,  or  views, 

The  best  blue  blood  ink  must  exclusively  use ; 

While  (paper  so  little  distinction  achieves) 

'T  will  wholly  be  printed  on  strawberry  leaves ; 

And  lest  the  effusions,  so  dazzlingly  bright, 

And  brilliantly  witty,  should  injure  the  sight, 

A  pair  of  smoked  glasses  (of  ducal  design) 

Will  go  with  each  copy  to  shelter  the  eyne. 

The  articles  promised  already,  or  written, 

Suggest  what  a  treat  is  preparing  for  Britain. 

The  Princess  of  .  .   .  will  describe  a  new  bonnet ; 

The  Spanish  Queen  Mother  has  offered  a  sonnet, 

Provided  that  all  whom  its  scansion  may  beat. 

Will  refrain  from  indelicate  mention  of  feet. 

And  the  Duchess  of  .  .  .  has  accepted  the  section 

Devoted  to  "Babies,  their  Tricks  and  Correction." 

The  Czar  will  contribute  a  fable  for  geese 

On  "Breaking  up  China  and  Keeping  the  Peace" ; 

The  Porte  sends  a  batch  of  seraglio  tales, 

And  our  Prince  will  review  "Mr.  Bullen  on  Whales," 

Mr.  Primrose  who  also  has  thoughts  of  the  sea, 

Addresses  to  Captains  of  every  degree, 

A  treatise  profound,  yet  delectable  too, 

On  "How  to  be  Father-in-law  to  a  Crewe" ; 

While  William  the  Second,  the  ablest  of  men, 

Will  fill  every  gap  with  one  stroke  of  his  pen. 

And,  lest  art  be  slighted  'midst  hurry  and  rush 

Will  illustrate  all  with  one  flirt  of  his  brush. 

Such,  such  Is  a  hint  of  a  new  magazine 

Lady  Randolph  will  edit,  with  help  from  the  Queen. 

384 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

It  was  with  the  greatest  regret  that  I  ceased  pubhsh- 
ing  "The  Anglo-Saxon  Review."  But  circumstances 
over  which  I  had  no  control  obliged  me  to  bring  its  career 
to  an  end.  No  one  can  be  responsible  for  a  publication 
of  that  kind  without  having  many  anxious  and  annoying 
moments,  but  I  shall  always  look  back  with  pleasure  and 
pride  to  that  period,  and  to  the  ten  volumes  it  produced. 
My  heart  will  never  forget  the  gratitude  I  owe  to  those 
who  worked  so  efficiently  for  me  and  with  me. 


385 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  DEVONSHIRE  HOUSE  FANCY-DRESS  BAEL— THE  OUT- 
BREAK OF  THE  SOUTH  AFRICAN  WAR — FORMATION  OF 
THE  COMMITTEE  OF  THE  AMERICAN  HOSPITAL-SHIP 
Jf^/iV^^— DEPARTURE  FOR  SOUTH  AFRICA 

RARELY  has  the  London  social  world  been  so 
stirred  as  by  the  fancy-dress  ball  given  at  Devon- 
'  shire  House,  on  the  2nd  of  July,  1897.  For 
weeks,  not  to  say  months,  beforehand,  it  seemed  the  prin- 
cipal topic  of  conversation.  The  absorbing  question  was 
what  characters  our  friends  and  ourselves  were  going  to 
represent.  Great  were  the  confabulations  and  mysteries. 
With  bated  breath  and  solemn  mien  a  fair  dame  would 
whisper  to  some  few  dozen  or  more  that  she  was  going  to 
represent  the  Queen  of  Cyprus  or  Aspasia,  Fredegonde 
or  Petrarch's  Laura,  but  the  secret  must  be  kept.  Histor- 
ical books  were  ransacked  for  inspirations,  old  pictures 
and  engravings  were  studied,  and  people  became  learned 
in  respect  to  past  celebrities  of  whom  they  had  never  be- 
fore heard.  The  less  well-known  the  characters,  the 
more  eagerly  were  they  sought  after.  "Never  heard  of 
Simonetta?  How  curious?  but  surely  you  remember 
Botticelli's  picture  of  her— one  of  the  beauties  of  the 
Florentine  court?    No?    How  strange!" 

"My  dress  is  to  be  'old  Venetian'  pink  velvet,  with  gold 
embroideries— one  of  those  medieval  women.     I  can't 

386 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

remember  her  name;  but  that  's  of  no  consequence. 
Masses  of  jewehy,  of  course." 

The  men,  oddly  enough,  were  even  more  excited  over 
their  costumes  than  the  women,  and  many  paid  extrava- 
gant sums  for  them.  There  is  no  doubt  that  when  a  man 
begins  to  think  about  his  appearance,  he  competes  with 
women  to  some  purpose,  money,  time,  and  thought  being 
of  no  account  to  him.  On  the  night  of  the  ball,  the  ex- 
citement rose  to  fever  heat.  Every  coiffeur  in  London 
and  Paris  was  requisitioned,  and  so  busy  were  they  that 
some  of  the  poor  victims  actually  had  their  locks  tortured 
early  in  the  morning,  sitting  all  day  in  a  rigid  attitude, 
or,  like  Agag,  "walking  delicately." 

Devonshire  House,  with  its  marble  staircase  and  glo- 
rious pictures,  was  a  fitting  frame  for  the  distinguished 
company  which  thronged  its  beautiful  rooms.  Every 
one  of  note  and  interest  was  there,  representing  the  intel- 
lect, beauty,  and  fashion  of  the  day,  from  the  present 
King  and  Queen  (then  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales) 
dressed  respectively  as  the  Grand  Prior  of  the  Order  of 
St.  John  of  Jerusalem  and  Marguerite  de  Valois,  to  the 
newest  Radical  member  of  Parliament,  gorgeously  at- 
tired as  the  Great  Mogul.  The  Duchess  of  Devonshire, 
who  looked  exceedingly  well  as  Zenobia  Queen  of  Pal- 
myra, and  the  Duke  as  the  Emperor  Charles  V  received 
on  a  raised  dais  at  the  end  of  the  ball-room  the  end- 
less procession  who  passed  by,  bowing,  courtesying,  or 
salaaming,  according  to  the  characters  they  represented. 
Princess  Pless,  lovely  as  Cleopatra,  was  surrounded  by 
a  retinue  in  Oriental  garb,  some  of  whom  so  far  sacri- 
ficed their  appearance  as  to  darken  their  faces.  A  num- 
ber of  the  ladies  were  more  becomingly  than  comfortably 

387 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

attired.  A  charming  Hebe,  with  an  enormous  eagle 
poised  on  her  shoulder  and  a  gold  cup  in  her  hand,  made 
a  perfect  picture,  but,  alas!  in  one  attitude  only,  which 
she  vainly  tried  to  preserve  throughout  the  evening, 
while  the  late  hereditary  Prince  of  Saxe-Coburg  (Prince 
Alfred  of  Edinburgh) ,  as  the  Duke  of  Normandy,  a.d. 
1060,  in  casque  and  chain  armor,  kept  his  vizor  down 
until  heat  and  hunger  forced  him  to  sacrifice  his  martial 
appearance.  A  beautiful  and  fascinating  duchess,  famous 
for  her  jewels,  elected  to  appear  as  Charlotte  Corday  in 

cotton  skirt  and  mob-cap,  whereas  Lady ,  trembling 

on  the  verge  of  bankruptcy,  was  covered  with  gems  of 
priceless  value.  The  late  Lad}''  Tweedmouth  was  a 
striking  figure  as  Queen  Ehzabeth,  with  eight  gigantic 
guardsmen  surrounding  her,  all  dressed  as  yeoman  of 
the  guard.  Many  people  copied  the  portraits  of  their 
ancestors,  and  Sir  John  Kaye,  in  chain  mail,  represented 
Sir  Kaye  of  the  "Morte  d'Arthur."  Many,  too,  were 
the  heart-burnings  over  failures  or  doubles.  In  one  case 
a  well-known  baronet  had  been  perfecting  himself  for 
weeks  in  the  role  of  Napoleon,  his  face  and  figure  lend- 
ing themselves  to  the  impersonation.  But  what  was  his 
dismay  at  finding  in  the  vestibule  a  second  victor  of  Aus- 
terlitz  even  more  lifelike  and  correct  than  himself.  It 
was  indeed  a  Waterloo  for  both  of  them. 

Few  danced,  as  in  a  raree-show  of  that  kind  people  are 
too  much  occupied  in  gazing  at  one  another  or  in  strug- 
gling to  play  up  to  their  assumed  parts.  Sometimes  this 
was  carried  further  than  was  intended.  Toward  the 
close  of  the  ball,  two  young  men  disputed  over  a  certain 
fair  lady.  Both  losing  their  tempers,  they  decided  to  set- 
tle the  matter  in  the  garden,  and  pulling  out  their  weap- 

388 


LADV  RANDOLPH  CHUKCHII.L.  AS  THK  BYZANTIMC  liMl'KHSS  THKUUuKA, 
AT  THK  DH\0.\SIIIKH  HOUSE  lANCY-UKESS  BALL 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

ons,  they  began  making  passes.  But  the  combatants 
were  unequally  armed,  one  being  a  crusader,  with  a 
double-handed  sword,  the  other  a  Louis  XV  courtier, 
armed  with  his  rapier  only.  He,  as  might  be  expected, 
got  the  worst  of  it,  receiving  a  nasty  cut  on  his  pink  silk 
stocking.  Where  so  many  magnificent  and  exquisite 
dresses  were  worn,  it  is  invidious  to  mention  names,  but 
I  remember  thinking  that  the  Duchess  of  Somerset's 
was  the  most  correct  and  beautiful,  with  every  detail 
carefully  carried  out,  the  result  being  absolutely  perfect. 

On  the  Saturday  following  this  great  entertainment 
I  went  to  Kimbolton  to  stay  with  the  Duchess  of  Man- 
chester, where  most  of  the  company  were  persuaded  to 
don  their  fancy  dress  once  more.  Of  course  the  ball  was 
discussed  ad  nauseam.  Many  were  the  divergent  opin- 
ions as  to  who  looked  the  best,  the  majority  giving  the 
palm  to  Lady  Westmoreland. 

In  the  winter  of  1898,  persistent  rumors  of  war  with 
South  Africa  were  prevalent,  although  few  realized  how 
soon  England  was  to  be  plunged  into  its  grim  realities. 
At  a  shooting  party  at  Chatsworth,  I  remember  meeting 
Mr.  Chamberlain,  then  Secretary  of  State  for  the  Colo- 
nies. One  night  at  dinner  we  discussed  the  situation, 
and  he  frankly  told  me  he  considered  it  inevitable.  A 
few  months  later,  hostilities  were  declared,  and  great  was 
the  excitement.  But  not  even  the  most  gloomy  of  pes- 
simists could  have  foreseen  or  imagined  the  proportions 
the  war  was  going  to  take,  or  the  length  of  time  it  was 
to  last.  As  is  well  known,  it  was  very  unpopular 
with  many  people,  particularly  with  those  who  knew 
South  Africa  well  and  had  lived  there ;  but  in  the  grow- 
ing enthusiasm  their  voices  were  as  of  "one  crying  in  the 

391 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

wilderness,"  and  before  long  they  were  dubbed  "Pro- 
Boers,"  or  even  traitors. 

Mr.  Selous,^  writing  to  me  November  5,  1899,  said: 

I  am  terribly  depressed  about  this  war.  I  believe  it  to  be  un- 
just and  impolitic,  and  fraught  with  the  gravest  danger  to  the 
British  Empire  in  the  not  distant  future.  By  our  attitude  at 
the  time  of  the  Jameson  raid,  and  ever  since,  we  gave  the  Trans- 
vaal every  excuse  for  arming  to  resist  an  attack  on  their  inde- 
pendence. The  country  was  practically  unarmed  for  war  with 
an  European  nation  before  the  Jameson  raid;  but  we  now  say 
that  the  Transvaal  Government  has  been  arming  for  many  years 
past,  with  the  idea  of  driving  the  British  out  of  South  Africa. 
What  your  husband  wrote  some  years  ago  as  to  what  would  have 
happened  had  we  carried  on  the  war  and  crushed  the  Transvaal 
Boers  in  1881,  is  singularly  applicable  to  the  present  situation. 
You  know  the  passage  of  course,  but  I  will  quote  it:  "Better 
and  more  precise  information  combined  with  cool  reflection  leads 
me  to  the  conclusion  that  had  the  British  Government  of  that 
day  taken  advantage  of  its  strong  military  position,  and  anni- 
hilated, as  it  could  easily  have  done,  the  Boer  forces,  it  would 
indeed  have  regained  the  Transvaal,  but  it  might  have  lost  Cape 
Colony.  The  Dutch  sentiment  in  the  Colony  has  been  so  exas- 
perated by  what  it  considered  to  be  the  unjust,  faithless,  and 
arbitrary  policy  pursued  towards  the  free  Dutchmen  of  the 
Transvaal  that  the  final  triumph  of  the  British  arms,  mainly  by 
brute  force,  would  have  permanently  and  hopelessly  alienated  it 
from  Great  Britain."  As  this  war  has  been  entered  upon,  I 
trust  it  will  soon  be  brought  to  a  victorious  conclusion.  That 
is  the  only  chance  of  peace  in  the  immediate  future,  and  there  is 
a  possibility  that  by  good  government  and  a  conciliatory  and 
sympathetic   attitude   towards   the   conquered    Boers,   we   may 

1  Mr.  Frederick  Courtney  Selous,  author  of  several  books  on  travel 
and  hunting  adventures  in  South  Africa. 

392 


,///<■        /    Ill/if/, I    c/     ^)i>/N  iTJil 

11,1     I  oil  c    'iiif/tr    of    ("inqion  J  c     "'>//•'  '<'  --^  i/fiot 

/  •  //  /         '^  /  /         '      /  '      ' 

'  ,  'lifiri/  f/i I-    (''ii/fif   iina    III of/icr  fi' 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

gradually  wear  away  any  ideas  they  may  have  of  another  war  of 
independence  a  generation  hence.  But  I  have  little  hopes  for 
the  future.  My  views  are  of  course  very  unpopular  in  this 
country  just  now,  and  I  am  freely  called  a  traitor,  etc.,  and 
have  lost  many  old  friends. 

A  few  days  later  he  wrote  again : 

.  .  .  Now  that  the  war  has  broken  out  in  South  Africa,  no 
Englishman,  I  think,  can  wish  for  anything  else  than  complete 
and  absolute  victory  for  our  arms.  I  hope  and  I  believe  that 
soon  after  all  our  forces  now  on  their  way  to  South  Africa  have 
arrived  there.  Sir  Redvers  Buller  will  be  able  to  overcome  all 
opposition,  so  that  our  Government  can  dictate  its  own  terms 
of  peace.  Should  those  terms  of  peace  bear  out  Lord  Salis- 
bury's statement  that  the  British  Government  seeks  to  gain 
neither  gold-fields  nor  territory  by  this  war,  then  every  honest 
Englishman  will  support  the  Government,  but  not  otherwise. 
I  wish  I  could  persuade  myself  that  this  war  was  just  and  neces- 
sary, and  would  bring  honor  to  England  and  lasting  benefit  to 
the  Empire;  but  I  cannot  believe  any  of  these  things.  The 
Jameson  raid  was,  though  a  seeming  failure,  in  reality  a  mag- 
nificent success ;  for  the  Jameson  raid  caused  the  Transvaal  and 
the  Orange  Free  State  to  arm,  and  the  arming  of  these  States — 
the  menace  to  British  supremacy  in  South  Africa,  as  it  was 
called — is  what  has  really  brought  about  this  war.  ...  I  long 
to  go  out  to  South  Africa  and  offer  my  services  to  Lord 
INIethuen,  whom  I  know  well ;  but  yet  cannot  do  so  because  of 
the  views  I  hold  as  to  the  real  causes  of  the  war,  and  because  I 
don't  see  how,  holding  the  views  I  do,  I  could  bring  myself  to 
raise  my  rifle  against  men  from  whom  I  have  received  nothing 
but  kindness,  and  the  vast  majority  of  whom  are  patriots  fight- 
ing for  the  independence  of  their  country,  which  they  believe  to 
have  been  unjustly  assailed  by  Mr.  Chamberlain. 

395 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

That  Mr.  Selous'  pessimistic  views  as  regards  the 
Transvaal  have  not  been  fulfilled  must  be  a  great  joy  to 
him,  as  it  is  to  all  those  who  have  the  welfare  of  South 
Africa  at  heart.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the  policy  which 
he  advocated  of  "a  good  Government  and  a  conciliatory 
and  symj)athetic  attitude  towards  the  conquered  Boers," 
which  has  been  followed  by  the  present  Liberal  Admin- 
istration, has  brought  about  the  existing  happy  state  of 
affairs.  One  sometimes  wonders  what  would  now  be  the 
condition  of  South  Africa  had  the  late  Conservative 
government  remained  in  power  and  carried  out  their 
proposed  measures.    But  this  is  by  the  way. 

In  moments  of  great  stress  and  struggle,  inactivity 
becomes  a  positive  pain.  The  people  who  were  the  most 
to  be  pitied  during  the  war  were,  as  a  friend  wrote  to  me 
at  the  time,  those  who  had  to  remain  at  home.  "It  is  like 
being  in  a  country  house,  and  seeing  day  after  day  other 
guests  going  out  to  hunt,  while  compelled  oneself  to 
remain  indoors.  I  know  nothing  so  depressing."  Peo- 
ple feeling  this,  every  sort  of  movement  was  soon  set  on 
foot  for  raising  funds  to  alleviate  the  miseries  of  the 
sick  and  wounded.  Every  one  became  interested  and 
occupied  in  some  scheme. 

One  day  in  October  I  received  a  visit  from  Mrs.  Blow, 
an  American  lady  who  had  lived  for  some  time  in  Aus- 
tralia. The  object  of  her  visit  was  to  suggest  the  idea 
of  an  American  hospital-ship  to  be  sent  out  to  South 
Africa.  I  confess  the  project  did  not  strike  me  as  prac- 
tical, and  for  some  days  I  gave  it  no  thought.  Happen- 
ing, however,  to  meet  Sir  William  Garstin  (of  Egyptian 
fame),  I  discussed  it  with  him,  and  he  strongly  advised 
me  to  take  it  up.     "Believe  me,"  he  said,  "you  will  be 

396 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

making  history  apart  from  the  excellence  of  the  work." 
Then  and  there  I  made  up  my  mind  to  do  it. 

On  October  25,  1899,  the  first  committee  meeting  was 
held  at  my  house,  at  which  a  number  of  my  compatriots 
attended.  Mrs.  Blow  was  made  honorary  secretary, 
Mrs.  Ronalds  treasurer,  and  I  was  elected  chairman,  and 
subsequently  Mrs.  Adair  was  made  vice-chairman.  A 
large  and  influential  general  committee  was  formed.^ 
All  worked  with  zeal  and  enthusiasm,  and  soon  the  whole 
thing  was  well  in  train.  There  was  a  general  impression 
that  the  war  would  be  short  and  sharp.  Hospitals  of  all 
kinds  were  greatly  needed,  and  we  hurried  with  feverish 
activity.  Funds  and  a  ship — those  were  our  two  great 
and  immediate  occupations.  No  stone  was  left  unturned 
to  procure  money — much  money,  and  it  had  to  be  all 
American  money.  It  would  be  useless  to  deny  here  the 
fact  that  the  war  was  viewed  with  disfavor  by  my  coun- 
trymen. They  had  a  fellow-feeling  for  the  Boer,  fight- 
ing, as  they  thought,  for  his  independence.  But  the  plea 
of  humanity  overran  their  political  opinions,  and  the 
fund  once  started,  money  poured  in.  A  resolution  car- 
ried at  the  meeting  of  the  executive  committee  was  em- 
bodied in  our  appeal  to  the  public : 

That  whereas  Great  Britain  is  now  involved  in  a  war  affect- 
ing the  rights  and  liberties  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  people  in  South 

1  Executive  Committee  of  the  American  Hospital  Ship  Maine :  Lady 
Randolph  Churchill  (Chairman);  Mrs.  Adair  (Vice-Chairman);  Mrs.  Blow 
(Hon.  Secretary);  Mrs.  Ronalds  (Hon.  Treasurer);  The  Duchess  of  Marl- 
borouf;:h  ;  Lily,  Duchess  of  Marlborough  ;  The  Countess  of  Essex  ;  Mrs. 
Bradley-Martin;  Mrs.  Joseph  Chamberlain;  Mrs.  Earle;  Mrs.  Field;  Mrs. 
Moreton  Frewen;  Mrs.  Hugh  Reid  Griffin;  Mrs.  Haldeman;  Mrs.  Leslie; 
Mrs.  Arthur  Paget;  Mrs.  Taylor;  Mrs.  Van  Duzer;  Mrs.  Ralph  Vivian; 
Madame  Von  Andre. 

1^  399 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

Africa,  and  has  under  arms  70,000  troops  to  maintain  such 
rights  and  hberties. 

And  whereas  the  people  of  Great  Britain  have,  by  their  sym- 
pathy and  moral  support,  materially  aided  the  people  of  the 
United  States  of  America  in  the  war  in  Cuba  and  the  Philippine 
Islands  ;  it  is  therefore  resolved: 

That  the  American  women  in  Great  Britain,  whilst  deploring 
the  necessity  for  war,  shall  endeavor  to  raise^  among  their  com- 
patriots, here  and  in  America,  a  fund  for  the  relief  of  the  sick 
and  wounded  soldiers  and  refugees  in  South  Africa.  It  is  pro- 
posed to  despatch  immediately  a  suitable  hospital  ship,  fully 
equipped  with  medical  stores  and  provisions,  to  accommodate 
200  people,  with  a  staff  of  four  doctors,  five  nurses,  and  forty 
non-commissioned  officers  and  orderlies. 

To  carry  the  above  resolution  into  effect,  the  sum  of  $150,000 
(£30,000)  will  be  required. 

Concerts,  matinees,  and  entertainments  of  all  sorts 
and  kinds  were  organized.  Large  fii'ms  of  many  nations 
contributed  their  specialties,  until  the  amount  of  medical 
comforts  became  so  great  that  we  found  some  difficulty 
in  storing  them. 

Checks  and  gifts  from  two  shillings  to  £1000  were 
given  to  us  by  private  persons,  whose  generosity  seemed 
to  know  no  bounds.  On  the  other  hand,  we  sometimes 
met  with  rebuffs,  notably  in  the  case  of  an  American 
multimillionaire  to  whom  I  cabled,  asking  for  a  sub- 
scription for  the  hospital.  He  replied  that  he  had  "no 
knowledge  of  the  scheme."  The  press  by  that  time  both 
in  England  and  the  United  States  was  full  of  our  enter- 
prise. I  cabled  back,  "Read  the  papers,"  but  this,  alas! 
did  not  untie  his  purse-strings.  Another,  whose  gene- 
rosity in  the  shape  of  libraries  we  thought  a  good  omen, 

400 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

also  refused.  Some  of  his  workmen,  however,  subscribed 
£500. 

We  had  asked  for  £30,000  but  eventually  received 
£41,597,  which,  it  must  be  admitted,  was  a  noble  sum  to 
raise  in  two  months,  particularly  under  the  circum- 
stances. 

Our  researches  and  inquiries  respecting  a  suitable  ves- 
sel were  not  at  first  crowned  with  success.  We  were 
particularly  anxious  to  secure  an  American  ship  if  possi- 
ble, and  cabled  to  Mr.  Roosevelt,  then  Governor  of  New 
York,  to  know  if  he  could  help  us  in  the  matter.  Unfor- 
tunately, he  could  not  suggest  anything.  Had  we  but 
known  it,  owing  to  the  large  sum  collected,  a  good  liner 
might  have  been  hired,  which  would  have  served  our 
purpose  admirably.  As  it  was  we  were  in  a  quandary, 
when  the  offer  came  through  the  chairman  of  the  At- 
lantic Transport  Company  to  lend  us  tlie  Maine. 

At  the  outbreak  of  the  South  African  War  this  com- 
pany offered  the  3Iaine  to  the  English  Government  for 
service  as  a  hospital  ship;  the  captain  and  crew  were  to 
be  maintained  at  the  company's  expense  during  such 
time  as  the  ship  was  in  use.  The  Government  accepted 
the  offer;  but  the  ship  being  a  cattle  boat,  and  the  ex- 
pense of  fitting  her  out  as  a  hospital  ship  being  very 
great,  the  Admiralty  had  taken  no  steps  to  alter  her  up 
to  the  time  when  the  American  I^adies'  Committee  was 
formed.  Mr.  Bernard  Baker,  President  of  the  com- 
pany, hearing  of  our  committee  and  its  aims,  generously 
proposed  to  the  Admiralty  to  hand  over  the  Maine  to  us 
to  fit  out.  The  Admiralty  agreed.  The  committee  took 
over  the  ship  from  the  Government  on  the  same  terms. 
This  arrangement  pleased  all  parties. 

401 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

Our  chief  difficulty  was  ignorance  of  the  requirements 
of  such  a  hospital.  Compared  with  it,  the  many  field 
hospitals  which  were  being  organized  were  easy  matters 
to  arrange,  for  every  detail  was  already  laid  down  by  the 
Army  jNIedical  Department.  It  is  true  that  four  or  five 
other  ships  were  being  equipped  for  the  same  purpose, 
but  I  imagine  they  found  themselves  equally  embar- 
rassed. There  was  no  precedent  that  one  could  go  upon 
in  England  of  a  properly  constituted  floating  hospital 
for  war-times. 

In  vain  I  haunted  the  precincts  of  the  Army  and  Red 
Cross  Medical  departments,  they  were  of  little  help  in  the 
way  of  advice.  Taken  au  depourvu,  they  themselves 
did  not  know  which  way  to  turn,  their  resources  being 
strained  to  the  utmost  limit.  However,  they  supplied 
us  with  a  certain  number  of  men  from  the  St.  John  Am- 
bulance Brigade,  who,  owing  to  their  training  and  mili- 
tary discipline,  were  of  the  greatest  use  and  comfort  on 
board. 

The  Atlantic  Transport  Company  luckily  proved 
more  helpful,  as,  having  already,  during  the  Cuban  war, 
equipped  and  given  the  twin-ship  of  the  Maine,  the  Mis- 
souri, to  the  American  Government,  they  had  a  certain 
amount  of  experience.  We  were  determined  that  the 
staff  of  doctors  and  nurses  should  be  American.  Mrs. 
Whitelaw  Reid  was  communicated  with  in  New  York, 
and  with  her  knowledge  of  nursing  and  her  connection 
with  the  Mills  School,  which  her  father,  Mr.  D.  O.  Mills, 
had  founded,  was  able  to  send  us  out  a  most  efficient 
staff  of  doctors,  nurses,  and  orderlies. 

During  October  and  November  the  committee  met  al- 
most daily.    I  shall  always  look  back  to  that  time  as  per- 

402 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

haps  the  most  absorbing  of  my  life.  The  gloom  and 
terrible  depression  which  had  settled  on  London  at  the 
unexpected  reverses  to  the  British  arms  did  not  affect  us, 
and  the  daily  accounts  of  horrors  and  sufferings  only 
doubled  our  activity.  We  had  no  time  for  tears.  All 
our  thoughts  were  centered  in  that  small  cattle  boat 
which  was  to  be  converted  by  our  efforts  and  the  gene- 
rosity of  our  compatriots  into  a  haven  of  rest  and  comfort 
where  some  of  the  terrible  suffering  could  be  alleviated. 

The  Maine  Committee  worked  with  such  Avill  and  fire 
that  they  carried  all  before  them.  The  War  Office  and 
the  Admiralty  were  badgered  and  heckled :  Would  they 
supply  us  with  this?  Would  they  guarantee  us  that? 
We  would  not  take  "No"  as  an  answer.  Our  cause  was 
a  righteous  one,  and  we  did  not  mind  being  importunate. 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  kindness  of  Lord  Lans- 
downe,  then  Minister  of  War.  He  helped  us  in  every 
possible  manner,  waiving  aside  all  red-tape,  as  he  real- 
ized how  anxious  we  were  to  get  our  ship  under  way. 
Indeed,  it  was  greatly  owing  to  him  and  the  late  Lord 
Goschen,  the  First  Lord  of  the  Admiralty,  that  our  ef- 
forts were  crowned  with  success. 

On  the  12th  of  November,  we  held  our  first  general 
committee.  It  was  with  conscious  pride  that  I  was  able 
to  point  out  that  although  the  scheme  had  been  in  exist- 
ence only  a  little  more  than  a  fortnight,  we  already  had  a 
ship,  a  magnificent  staff,  hundreds  of  gifts,  sympathizers 
working  for  us  in  every  part  of  the  globe,  and,  what  was 
even  more  important,  £15,000.  I  confess  that  I  had  a 
suspicion  that  some  of  those  present  criticized  the  policy 
which  necessitated  the  sending  of  so  many  gallant  sol- 
diers to  the  front.  But  with  this  policy  we  had  nothing  to 

40.3 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

do.  My  friend  Mrs.  Craigie  (John  Oliver  Hobbes), 
writing  to  me  at  the  time,  said:  "The  wounded  are  the 
wounded,  irrespective  of  creed  or  nationahty."  This  I 
quoted  with  much  effect  to  the  meeting ;  also  the  trite 
saying  that  "deeds  were  better  than  words,"  adding  that 
the  Maine  would  probably  do  more  to  cement  the  friend- 
ship between  England  and  America  than  any  amount  of 
flag-waving  and  pleasant  amenities. 

Although  the  Maine  was  an  American  hospital-ship, 
it  was  very  important  for  its  welfare  that  we  should  have 
it  under  the  segis  of  the  British  Government.  There 
were  many  privileges  which  they  alone  could  give  us.  It 
was  also  absolutely  necessary  for  our  proper  status  that 
we  should  be  recognized  as  a  military  hospital-ship  and 
that  our  principal  medical  officer  should  be  an  English- 
man of  such  standing  in  the  army  as  to  give  him  ample 
authority.  On  this  subject  we  did  not  at  first  get  much 
encouragement  from  headquarters.  In  a  letter  to  me. 
Lord  Wolseley,  the  commander-in-chief,  deprecated  the 
idea,  and  rather  hinted  that  as  we  were  going  to  be  so  in- 
dependent, we  had  better  be  entirely  so.  But  later  he 
changed  his  mind,  and  wrote : 

I  am  only  too  anxious  to  help  you  in  this  matter  to  show  you 
how  thoroughly  our  army,  and  indeed  the  nation,  appreciate 
this  evidence  of  the  interest  that  American  ladies  take  in  our 
sick  and  wounded. 

Surgeon  Lieutenant-Colonel  Hensman,  A.M.D.,  late 
of  the  2nd  Life  Guards,  was  eventually  chosen  for  us, 
and  we  never  had  cause  to  regret  the  choice,  for  to  a 
sense  of  duty  he  added  tactful  and  courteous  manners. 

404 


2S3 

O^  o  _ 
"*"*  rt- 

■    v  ^ 

^■2  ° 
.    n 

H  cr^ 
w  S'  ;^' 

-"  si- 
s'caS, 

83 
5  g;- 
a"  a 

•sis. 

£=,•• 
5''  tn 

3  ft) 
o  J" 

n  ?w 

*.  ffi  3 

"*  !"'£ 

V  n  S 


n  » 


-.a 

3  o 


„-.3. 

ST" 
•  -.  1/1 


in 

O 

a 

m 

o 

H 

I 

fd 

in 
H 

o 
11 


2 
> 

Z 

K 

O 

■d 
H 

r 

in 

a 


> 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

It  was  no  easy  matter  to  control  men  of  two  nationali- 
ties, for  although  they  were  united  in  a  common  cause, 
English  and  Americans  have  different  ideas  and  meth- 
ods, and  it  is  a  lasting  credit  to  the  ship  that  there  never 
were  any  serious  differences  on  board. 

The  arrival  of  the  American  staff  from  New  York 
occasioned  much  excitement  and  interest  not  only  to  the 
committee,  but  in  all  circles.  Hotels  vied  with  one  an- 
other to  offer  them  accommodation  at  very  reduced  rates 
pending  the  departure  of  the  ship  to  South  Africa. 
Indeed,  they  were  lionized,  luncheons  and  dinner-par- 
ties and  every  sort  of  entertainment  being  given  them, 
including  one  organized  by  the  matrons  and  nurses  of 
the  London  hospitals.  They  were  invited  to  Windsor, 
where,  after  viewing  the  state  and  private  apartments 
and  having  luncheon,  they  were  personally  presented  to 
Queen  Victoria  by  H.  R.  H.  Princess  Christian,  whose 
interest  in  hospital  matters  is  well  known.  Her  Majesty 
was  deeply  interested,  wishing  them  God-speed  on  their 
errand  of  mercy.  She  added:  "I  am  very  pleased  to  see 
you,  and  I  want  to  say  how  much  I  appreciate  your 
kindness  in  coming  over  to  take  care  of  my  men."  Be- 
fore returning  to  London,  the  staff  had  tea  with  Princess 
Christian  at  Cumberland  Lodge,  thus  getting  an  oppor- 
tunity of  seeing  the  Great  Park  as  they  drove  through  it. 

Two  days  later  I  was  bidden  to  dine  and  sleep  at 
Windsor,  and  had  a  most  interesting  conversation  with 
the  Queen  about  the  war.  Her  Majesty  asked  me 
many  questions  about  the  Maine,  and  spoke  of  the  visit 
of  the  surgeons  and  nurses,  whom  she  professed  to  be 
very  pleased  with;  but  said,  "I  think  the  surgeons  look 
very  young."     "All  the  more  energetic,  therefore,"  I 

407 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

hoped.  The  Queen  was  full  of  inquiries  about  my  sis- 
ter-in-law, Lady  Sarah  Wilson,  who  was  then  reported  to 
be  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  the  Boers.  "They  will  not 
hurt  her,"  she  said,  with  a  charming  smile. 

The  next  day  Mrs.  Ronalds  and  Mrs.  Blow  came  to 
the  Castle  to  be  personally  thanked  for  their  work.  I 
was  asked  to  present  them  to  the  Queen,  and  felt  very 
proud  of  my  handsome  countrywomen  as  they  came  for- 
ward with  that  self-possession  and  grace  which  seems  in- 
herent in  them. 

On  the  17th  of  November  I  was  paying  a  visit  to  some 
friends  in  the  country,  intending  to  go  to  London  next 
day  for  a  great  fete  at  Claridge's  Hotel  on  behalf  of  the 
Maine,  when  in  the  middle  of  the  night  I  was  awakened 
by  the  following  telegrams : 

I  regret  to  inform  you  that  Mr.  Winston  Churchill  has  been 
captured  by  the  Boers.  He  fought  gallantly  after  an  armored 
train  in  which  he  was  traveling  was  trapped. 

Signed,  Editor  of  the  Morning  Post. 

The  second  came  from  the  late  Mr.  Oliver  Borthwick, 
a  great  personal  friend  of  ours,  at  that  time  sub-editor 
to  the  same  paper,  of  which  his  father,  Lord  Gleneck, 
was  proprietor : 

Deeply  regret  Winston  reported  captured  by  Boers;  no 
mention  of  his  being  wounded.  He  not  only  displayed  great 
personal  bravery,  carrying  the  wounded  to  safety,  but  by  his 
coolness  and  bravery  encouraged  the  others.  Our  corre- 
spondent says  later :  "Churchill,  with  bravery,  coolness  described 
as  magnificent,  got  party  men  clear  of  overturned  train,  sub- 
sequently fighting  with  Dublins  and  Natal  Volunteers,  covering 
retreat  of  engineers." 

408 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

My  feelings  may  be  imagined,  and  I  passed  some  ter- 
ribly anxious  moments.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  ab- 
sorbing occupation  of  the  Maine,  I  cannot  think  how  I 
could  have  got  through  that  time  of  suspense.  Among 
shoals  of  telegrams,  I  received  the  following  from  the 
Empress  Eugenie,  which  touched  me  very  much. 

Farnborough : 

Prends  bien  part  a  vos  inquietudes ;  espere  aurez  bientot 
nouvelle. 

Signed,  Comtesse  Pierrefonds. 

The  committee  were  very  desirous  that  President  Mc- 
Kinley  should  give  us  the  American  flag  we  intended  to 
fly  on  our  hospital  ship,  and  accordingly  I  cabled,  asking 
him  to  do  so,  adding  that  it  would  carry  no  political  sig- 
nificance. After  some  delay  there  came  an  answer 
through  Secretary  Hay,  to  the  effect  that  the  President 
thought  it  would  not  do  for  him  to  present  a  flag  to 
the  ship,  as  his  "motives  might  be  misconstrued."  I 
cabled  again:  "Would  not  red  cross  on  flag  remove 
difficulty?  Wounded  are  to  be  tended  irrespective  of 
nationality."  But  I  suppose  the  pro-Boer  feeling  was 
running  too  high  in  America,  for  my  request  was  again 
refused. 

Meanwhile  I  had  enlisted  the  kind  offices  of  tlie  Duke 
of  Connaught  to  ask  the  Queen  to  give  us  a  Union  Jack, 
and  never  doubting  that  wt  should  secure  the  Stars  and 
Stripes  from  the  President,  I  mentioned  the  fact  to  His 
Royal  Highness.  A  few  days  later  I  received  the  fol- 
lowing letter: 

409 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

* 

Bagshot  Pakk,  Surrey,  Dec.  4th,  1899. 
Dear  Lady  Randolph  : 

I  am  happy  to  be  able  to  tell  you  that  the  Queen  has  con- 
sented to  present  a  Union  Jack  to  the  Hospital  Ship  Maine  as 
a  mark  of  her  appreciation  of  the  generosity  of  those  American 
ladies  who  have  so  nobly  come  forward,  and  have  at  such  great 
expense  equipped  a  hospital  ship  for  wounded  British  officers 
and  men.  I  hope  to  be  able  to  bring  the  flag  down  with  me  on 
the  16th,  and  to  present  it  in  the  Queen's  name.  The  Duchess 
and  I  have  accepted  to  dine  at  the  Carlton  on  the  17th  to  meet 
you  all,  and  I  understand  the  nurses,  too. 

Hoping  you  got  your  telegram  through  to  Pretoria. 

Believe  me, 

Yours  very  sincerely, 

Arthur. 


The  refusal  from  Washington  placed  me  in  rather  an 
awkward  position,  as  the  Queen  in  presenting  a  flag,  was 
under  the  impression  that  the  President  was  doing  the 
same.  Under  the  circumstances,  I  thought  the  best 
policy  was  to  preserve  a  judicious  silence,  and  the  Ameri- 
can flag  was  not  mentioned.  On  the  appointed  day  the 
Queen's  present  of  a  huge  Union  Jack,  embellished 
in  the  center  with  the  red  cross  on  a  white  ground  was 
duly  hoisted.  This  ceremony  was  attended  with  all  the 
eclat  we  could  ensure  for  it.  The  Duke  and  Duchess  of 
Connaught,  Princess  Louise  (Marchioness  of  Lome), 
and  a  number  of  distinguished  people  came  to  the  lunch- 
eon and  witnessed  the  presentation. 

The  Duke  of  Connaught  made  a  most  felicitous 
speech,  which  delighted  us  all.     In  the  name  of  her 

410 


jif 


o 

S) 

a! 


z 

< 

3 


o 
I 

z 

< 

u 

2 
u 
s 
<; 

w 
I 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Majesty  the  Queen,  he  presented  the  Union  Jack  to  the 
hospital-ship  Maine 

...  as  a  mark  of  her  appreciation  of  the  generosity  of  those 
who  have  found  the  money  for  this  ship,  and  also  of  that  charity 
which  a  large  number  of  American  ladies  and  gentlemen  have 
shown  toward  the  soldiers  of  her  kin,  speaking  their  own  lan- 
guage, who  are  now  fighting  gallantly  in  South  Africa.  It  is 
a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  have  been  asked  to  perform  what  I 
believe  is  a  unique  ceremony.  Never  before  has  a  ship  sailed 
under  the  combined  flags  of  the  Union  Jack  and  the  Stars  and 
Stripes ;  and  it  marks,  I  hope,  an  occasion  which  brings  out 
that  feeling  of  generosity  and  aff^ection  that  the  two  countries 
have  for  each  other.  I  cannot  sufficiently  thank  those  who  have 
come  forward  in  such  a  liberal  manner  for  what  they  have  done. 
As  an  officer  in  the  Enghsh  Army,  I  feel,  I  can  assure  you,  most 
deeply  what  you  all  have  done  for  us  this  day,  and  I  am  sure 
that  the  officers  and  men  who  may  reap  the  advantage  of  this 
well-equipped  ship  will  bless  those  who  have  done  so  much  to- 
wards it.  I  should  like  to  mention  many  names,  but  I  am  afraid 
it  is  impossible,  and  I  will  therefore  ask  Lady  Randolph 
Churchill  to  accept  in  the  name  of  all  those  who  have  worked 
with  her  the  thanks  both  of  the  Sovereign  of  our  country  and 
of  all  English  men  and  women  for  this  splendid  present  which 
has  been  made  in  aid  of  our  wounded  soldiers  in  South  Africa. 

To  this  I  replied: 

Your  Royal  Highness,  I  beg  to  thank  you  in  the  name  of  my 
committee  for  your  kindness  in  coming  here  to-day  to  present 
on  behalf  of  her  Majesty  the  Queen,  her  gracious  gift  of  the 
Union  Jack  to  the  American  ladies'  hospital-ship  Maine.  I 
trust  your  Royal  Highness  will  convey  to  her  Majesty  how 
deeply  we  feel  honored  by  this  kind  and  thoughtful  act,  which 

413 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

we  look  upon  as  an  acknowledgment  and  appreciation  of  our 
efforts.  It  is  a  source  of  much  gratification  to  us  Americans 
that  our  compatriots  have  responded  so  generously  to  our  call 
on  behalf  of  the  sick  and  wounded,  enabling  us  by  their  sympa- 
thy and  money  to  fit  out  this  splendid  ship.  We  have  also  had 
many  donations  from  English  people  who  have  come  forward 
most  lavishly  with  their  gifts.  Indeed,  all  who  have  been  inter- 
ested in  this  work  have  made  it  a  labor  of  love.  We  hope  that 
the  Maine  will  be  more  than  useful  on  her  errand  of  mercy,  and 
that  our  charity  will  be  as  wide-spread  as  possible  irrespective 
of  nationality. 

The  flag  was  then  fastened  to  a  halyard  and  run  up  by 
the  Duke  to  the  mainmast,  where,  after  an  energetic  pull 
or  two,  it  flew  out  to  the  breeze,  the  band  of  the  Scots 
Guards  playing  "Rule  Britannia."  This  they  quickly 
changed  to  the  "Star-Spangled  Banner"  as  the  Stars 
and  Stripes  were  run  up  to  the  mizzen,  and  the  Red- 
Cross  flag  to  the  foremast.  With  the  Admiralty's  trans- 
port flag  at  the  helm,  it  is  not  surprising  that  we  felt 
much  be-flagged  and  bedecked.  It  was  a  great  moment 
for  us  all,  and  I  confess  I  felt  a  lump  in  my  throat.  We 
had  had  an  anxious  moment  in  the  morning  when  the 
Bishop  of  London,  who  was  to  have  blessed  the  flag,  tele- 
graphed suddenly  that  he  was  too  ill  to  come.  London 
was  scoured  to  find  a  divine  to  take  his  place;  fortu- 
nately we  secured  the  Bishop  of  Islington.  But  he,  too, 
gave  us  a  scare,  as  he  missed  his  train  and  barely  arrived 
in  time. 

On  the  23rd  of  December,  the  Maine  sailed  for  Cape 
Town.  I  had  made  up  my  mind  some  time  previously 
to  go  with  her,  feeling  that  the  committee  should  be 
represented  by  a  person  of  authority  without  a  salary. 

414 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Although  the  morning  broke  dark  and  foggy,  I  started 
with  a  hght  heart,  as  I  Iiad  heard  the  day  before  that 
my  son  Winston,  after  escaping  from  Pretoria,  where 
he  had  been  a  prisoner  after  the  armor  train  disaster  at 
Chieveley,  was  safe  at  Lorenzo  Marquez.  The  news 
was  first  conveyed  to  me  through  the  telephone  from  the 
office  of  the  "Morning  Post,"  for  which  paper  he  had 
been  acting  as  war  correspondent.  All  I  could  hear  was 
"Hurrah!  hurrah!"  shouted  by  different  voices,  as  one 
after  another  seized  the  instrument  in  their  kind  wish  to 
congratulate  me. 

To  say  that  the  ship  was  in  a  state  of  chaos  does  not 
express  it.  On  the  Sunday  before  10,000  people  had 
visited  her,  which  did  not  help  to  keep  the  new  paint  im- 
maculate. The  decks  were  covered  with  mud  from  the 
boots  of  the  numerous  workmen;  painters,  carpenters, 
plumbers,  and  engineers  were  seen  in  every  nook  and 
corner  putting  on  the  last  touches,  the  wards  were  lit- 
tered with  wood-shavings,  paint-pots,  ropes,  scaffold- 
ings, and  the  thousand  and  one  kind  of  debris  which  the 
conversion  of  a  cattle  boat  entails.  With  my  friend 
Miss  Eleanor  Warrender,  who  was  going  out  with  me, 
I  stood  on  the  deck  as  the  vessel  moved  out  of  the  docks, 
leaving  family  and  friends  behind.  A  gleam  of  sun 
shone  on  us  for  a  moment  as  those  on  shore  burst  into 
cheers,  which  were  taken  up  by  the  crews  of  the  ships 
which  lay  alongside.  "Mind  you  bring  home  Kruger, 
and  we  '11  eat  him,"  and  a  few  similar  recommendations, 
came  from  grimy  colliers,  but  these  cries  were  soon  lost 
in  the  black  fog  which  settled  down  upon  us.  Although, 
owing  to  it,  we  got  only  as  far  as  the  outer  basin,  we  felt 
we  had  started  on  our  journey. 

415 


CHAPTER  XVI 

, SOUTH    AFRICA— LIFE    ON    THE    HOSPITAL-SHIP   MAINE 

CAPE  TOWN— A  REMARKABLE  HAIL-STORM— DURBAN 
—  SOME  RED-TAPE— WAR  SCENES— VISIT  TO  CHIEVELEY 
CAMP— RELIEF  OF  LADYSMITH. 

ON  my  journey  to  South  Africa  in  January, 
1899,  in  the  hospital-ship  Maine,  I  had  antici- 
pated a  certain  amount  of  rough  weather  in  the 
Bay  of  Biscay,  but  was  not  prepared  to  meet  a  full  gale 
lasting  six  days,  and  which  according  to  the  authorities 
was  the  worst  experienced  for  many  years.  To  en- 
counter this  in  midwinter,  in  a  comparatively  small  ship, 
fitted  up  as  a  hospital,  with  large  hatchways  and  sky- 
lights, and  with  inadequate  means  of  battening  down, 
was,  it  must  be  admitted,  something  of  a  trial.  In- 
deed we  lay  to  forty-eight  hours,  adding  to  our 
physical  misery  the  knowledge  that  we  were  making 
no  headway.  Even  to  good  sailors  the  weariness  of 
being  buffeted  from  morning  till  night,  and  the  impos- 
sibility of  doing  anything  unless  entrenched  in  a  sort  of 
zereba,  is  most  trying.  To  eat  under  such  circumstances 
one  requires  to  be  a  Cinquevalli:  no  fiddles  can  restrain 
your  soup  from  being  shot  into  your  lap,  or  the  contents 
of  your  glass  into  your  face.  To  those  who  are  not 
"Ancient  Mariners"  the  horrors  of  the  situation  will 
appeal  sympathetically.     I  never  realized  before  how 

416 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

one  can  suffer  by  color.  The  green  of  my  attractive 
little  cabin,  which  I  had  thought  so  reposeful,  became 
a  source  of  acute  suffering,  and  I  had  to  find  a  neutral- 
tinted  cushion  on  which  to  rest  my  eyes.  The  sound  of 
the  waves  breaking  on  the  deck  with  the  report  of  can- 
non-balls brought  to  my  mind  our  mission,  and  I  re- 
member thinking,  as  I  rolled  in  sleepless  wretchedness, 
that  if  we  went  to  the  bottom,  at  least  we  should  be 
counted  as  victims  of  the  war. 

Besides  the  inclemency  of  the  weather,  the  ship  was 
in  the  greatest  confusion,  owing  to  the  vast  amount  of 
goods  overcrowding  the  holds,  and  to  a  mass  of  articles 
brought  on  board  at  the  last  moment.  This  proved  a 
serious  obstacle  to  getting  the  vessel  in  order,  and  for  a 
time  all  was  in  chaos.  I  will  not  dwell  on  the  discom- 
forts, I  may  even  say  hardships,  experienced  more  or  less 
by  all.  January  2,  late  in  the  evening,  we  anchored  off 
Las  Palmas,  and  with  a  sigh  of  relief  told  each  other  the 
worst  was  now  over.  In  the  morning  Mr.  Swanston,  the 
British  Consul,  and  Captain  Wintz,  of  H.M.S.  Furious, 
who  had  been  on  the  lookout  for  us  for  days,  came  on 
board,  bringing  the  latest  news  and  fresh  flowers.  The 
news  was  scanty:  General  French  had  occupied  Coles- 
berg,  and  there  had  been  a  fresh  attack  on  Maf eking. 
Otherwise  the  situation  was  unchanged.  We  went  on 
shore  feeling  giddy  and  battered,  coming  across  in  the 
harbor  the  wrecked  transport  Denton  Grange,  which 
had  run  ashore  with  three  other  vessels  during  the  gale. 
The  water  was  pouring  through  her  hold,  and  all  the 
engines  were  hopelessly  ruined.  We  had  a  talk  with 
some  of  her  dejected  officers,  who  were  living  on  board. 

Armed  with  cameras  and  long  lists  of  purchases,  we 

417 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

lunched  at  the  Catahna  Hotel,  a  pretty  house  with  low 
verandas  covered  with  bougainvilleas  of  different 
shades.  The  air  was  soft  and  balmy,  and  many  English 
visitors  were  lounging  about,  looking,  if  slightly  bored, 
peaceful  and  comfortable.  Our  friends  provided  us 
with  a  carriage  and  pair  in  which  we  crawled  through 
the  two  feet  of  mud  of  the  one  long  principal  street  of 
the  town.  I  was  reminded  of  Monterey,  California — 
there  were  the  same  square  pink  houses  with  green  shut- 
ters and  a  center  court  or  patio,  tropical  vegetation,  and 
the  sea  at  the  door.  But  here  the  comparison  ends,  for 
Las  Palmas  is  merely  pretty,  whereas  Monterey  with  its 
seventeen-mile  ocean  drive,  unparalleled  gardens  and 
unique  storm-swept  cypress  groves  overlooking  the 
ocean,  is  perhaps  one  of  the  most  beautiful  spots  in  the 
world. 

Excited  and  delighted  with  our  day,  we  returned  to 
the  ship  laden  with  spoils — birds,  parrots,  fruit,  plants, 
coffee-pots,  and  much  else.  I  had  an  opportunity  of 
judging  of  the  appearance  of  the  Maine  as  we  came 
alongside.  Alas !  the  brilliant  green  stripe  denoting  our 
status  as  a  military  hospital-ship  was  a  thing  of  shreds 
and  patches,  many  of  our  stanchions  were  bent  and 
twisted,  and  our  would-be  immaculate  white  paint  was 
a  foggy  gray. 

The  seventeen  days  of  our  journey  to  CajDc  Town  were 
busy  ones;  we  were  spared  monotony  by  the  work  of 
getting  the  wards  in  order,  and  rescuing  our  hundreds 
of  donations  from  the  chaos  of  the  hold.  In  the  hurry 
of  departure  many  things  had  been  forgotten,  and  many 
were  put  anywhere  to  be  out  of  the  way.  We  had  very 
little  time  in  which  to  appear  shipshape  before  arriving. 

418 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

The  surgeons,  sisters  and  medical  staff  generally  were 
assigned  to  their  different  wards,  which  reechoed  with 
"Be  kind  enough  not  to  walk  through  my  ward";  "Be 
good  enough  to  keep  your  wet  feet  off  my  clean  rubber" ; 
"Pray  take  your  things  off  my  beds,"  and  the  like. 

After  crossing  the  line  the  evenings  were  spent  in 
star-gazing  at  the  Southern  Cross.  But  I  confess  I  felt 
no  keenness,  having  seen  it  often  before,  and  I  thought 
its  beauty  a  delusion.  At  first  we  met  no  ships,  and  the 
absence  of  news  was  very  trying.  After  a  few  days, 
however,  we  sighted  a  small  steamer  and  instantly  bore 
down  on  her,  signaling  for  intelligence.  What  we  got 
was:  "Buller  crossed  Tugela.  Ladysmith  rumored  re- 
lieved. Continued  fighting"— virtually  no  news,  and 
we  were  fain  to  hold  our  souls  in  patience  till  our  arrival 
in  Cape  Town,  on  the  23rd  of  January. 

Cape  Town,  with  its  bay  full  of  transports  disembark- 
ing troops,  the  feverish  activity  of  its  docks,  and  its 
streets  crowded  with  khaki-clad  soldiers,  seemed  indeed 
the  real  thing.  My  first  impression  of  the  bay  at  6  a.m. 
with  innumerable  vessels  and  forests  of  masts,  the  clouds 
breaking  on  Table  Mountain,  and  the  rising  sun  turning 
all  into  a  pink  glory,  will  not  soon  fade  from  my 
memory.  Though  worn  and  tired,  and  realizing  that 
our  work  was  all  before  us,  we  rejoiced  to  be  in  measura- 
ble distance  of  it.  As  we  were  rolling  about  outside  the 
breakwater,  by  the  kindness  and  exertions  of  Sir 
Edward  Chichester  who  was  in  charge  of  the  port,  we 
were  given  a  berth  inside.  As  soon  as  possible  I  started 
off  to  see  the  Governor,  Sir  Alfred  (now  Lord)  Milner, 
to  get  my  letters  and  telegrams  and  gather  what  news  I 
could.    This  was  very  meager.    I  have  since  ascertained 

'"  419 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

that  Lord  Kitchener's  first  order  to  all  officers  was  to 
practise  the  utmost  discretion,  and  that  any  information 
as  to  war  news  was  strictly  forbidden.  This  was  owing 
to  the  mass  of  spies  and  the  disloyalty  in  Cape  Town, 
much  valuable  information  being  continually  trans- 
mitted to  the  enemy.  The  Standard  Bank  was  an  amaz- 
ing sight  of  bustling  activity,  men  in  every  variety  of 
khaki-colored  clothes,  trousers,  breeches,  puttees,  gait- 
ers, sombreros,  helmet  and  field-service  caps,  rushing  in 
and  out  all  day,  till  one  wondered  at  the  patience  and 
civility  of  the  employees.  The  entire  staff  of  the  Maine 
were  invited  to  a  reception  at  the  Mount  Nelson  Hotel, 
given  in  their  honor  by  a  committee  of  American  ladies. 
It  was  pleasant  enough  to  walk  in  the  pretty  garden, 
eating  strawberries — and  a  marked  contrast  to  the 
melancholy  which  prevailed  at  Government  House, 
where  I  dined  that  evening. 

The  day  of  our  arrival  the  principal  medical  officer 
came  on  board  and  after  visiting  the  ship,  informed  us 
that  we  were  at  once  to  be  sent  to  Durban  to  fill  up  with 
patients  and  return  to  England.  I  remonstrated  and 
explained  to  him  the  purpose  and  mission  of  the  ship, 
pointing  out  the  fact  that  were  it  to  be  treated  merely 
as  a  transport  for  convalescents  the  international  value 
of  the  gift  would  certainly  suffer,  and  the  large,  ex- 
pensive and  efficient  medical  staff  on  board  would  have 
nothing  to  do  and  would  be  greatly  disappointed,  as  of 
course  interesting  serious  cases  were  not  likely  to  be  sent 
us.  I  pressed  the  point  so  much  that  at  last  he  said  the 
ship  had  better  get  orders  from  General  Buller  on  ar- 
rival at  Durban.  On  our  arrival  there  the  authorities 
came  on  board  and  told  us  we  were  to  be  filled  up  with 

420 


riHLD-MAKSHAL   LURD    ROBERTS    INSPECTING   THE  MAIXE  AT   CAPE   TOWN 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

drafts  from  the  other  hos23ital-ships  and  sent  home  at 
once.  But  with  the  help  and  influence  of  the  Govern- 
ment of  Natal,  Sir  Red  vers  Buller  and  other  influential 
friends,  I  am  happy  to  say  I  was  able  successfully  to 
frustrate  three  times  these  endeavors  to  send  us  back. 
The  Maine  not  only  remained  in  the  harbor  of  Dur- 
ban but  had  many  interesting  cot  cases  sent  down. 
The  absence  of  news  was  making  every  one  desperately 
anxious. 

We  had  been  asked  by  the  Cape  Town  authorities  to 
leave  on  the  25th  for  Durban.  Although  the  notice  was 
short,  giving  us  only  a  couple  of  days  after  the  long  sea 
voyage  of  nearly  a  month,  we  were  rather  pleased  to  be 
able  to  say  "Yes,"  and  prove  our  readiness.  A  few 
hours  after  receiving  our  orders,  however.  Lord  Roberts 
sent  word  that  he  wished  to  visit  the  ship  on  the  follow- 
ing day.  Accordingly  he  came,  and  gave  us  a  thorough 
inspection:  wards,  mess  rooms,  dispensary,  operating 
room,  everything  was  visited  and  much  approved  of. 
The  only  thing  wanting  to  prove  our  efficiency  was  beds 
filled  with  the  wounded.  Before  starting  five  civil  sur- 
geons and  eight  army  reserve  sisters  were  added  to  our 
number,  the  medical  authorities  having  asked  us  to  take 
them  to  Durban,  their  ultimate  destination  being  Mooi 
River.  They  proved  very  troublesome  on  the  journey, 
being  indeed  as  eocigeant  as  they  appeared  ignorant. 
One  or  two  of  the  nurses  actually  brought  maids  to  look 
after  them!  I  did  not  envy  the  hospitals  which  were  to 
benefit  by  their  services. 

It  was  no  surprise  to  us  to  repeat  some  of  our  Bay  of 
Biscay  experiences,  as  we  knew  there  would  be  a  heavy 
ground  swell  all  the  way.    Later,  however,  the  sea  be- 

423 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

came  comparatively  calm,  and  we  emerged  to  bask  in 
the  sun  like  lizards.  I  gazed  for  hours  through  my 
glasses  at  the  shore,  which  was  only  three  or  four  miles 
distant.  The  soft  green  hills  and  bright  sandy  beaches, 
with  kraals  dotted  here  and  there,  gave  it  such  a  culti- 
vated appearance  that  one  could  hardly  realize  this  was 
"Savage  South  Africa."  As  we  approached  Durban, 
the  wind  began  to  blow,  and  an  ominous  bank  of  gray 
cloud  came  up,  with  lightning  flashing  on  the  horizon. 
I  shall  never  forget  the  astonishing  storm  which  sud- 
denly burst  upon  us.  The  electric  barometer  in  my 
cabin  dropped  perpendicularly.  Torrents  of  hailstones 
beat  down  on  us  as  large  as  small  plums,  the  wind  in- 
creased to  a  hurricane,  and  was  so  violent  that  the  ship 
stood  still,  although  we  had  been  going  at  ten  knots.  The 
awning  aft  was  violently  blown  into  the  sea,  carrying 
with  it  all  its  rafters  and  stanchions,  smashing  one  of  the 
big  ventilators,  and  only  just  missing  some  of  the  sisters 
who  were  crouching  on  the  deck.  The  sea  meanwhile 
presented  a  most  curious  appearance,  being  covered 
with  millions  of  little  jets  about  a  foot  high,  due  to  the 
force  with  which  the  hailstones  fell,  and  as  they  floated 
for  a  while,  in  a  few  minutes  it  was  quite  white.  Inside 
my  deck  cabin  the  din  was  terrific,  the  noise  of  the  hail- 
stones striking  the  skylight  and  windows  with, a  sound 
like  bullets.  It  was  impossible  to  speak.  One  win- 
dow was  smashed  and  the  water  and  ice  poured  in  every- 
where. The  hailstones  had  a  pattern  like  agate.  With  the 
decks  covered  with  ice,  the  thermometer  at  82  degrees 
seemed  an  anomaly,  and  reminded  one  of  the  Scotchman 
■who  during  a  rainstorm  threw  out  his  rising  barometer, 
shouting  after  it,  "Go  and  see  for  yourself."    Luckily 

424 


I.ADY  RANDOI.I'H  CHIKCHII.L  AND  HER  SON.  MR.  JOHN  CHURCHILL, 
ON  HOARD  THE  AMERICAN  HOSl'ITAL-SHU'  MAINH 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

the  storm  did  not  last  long,  and  we  were  soon  able  to 
emerge  and  look  at  the  damage. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  29th  we  came  in  sight  of 
Durban,  the  pride  and  glory  of  the  Garden  Colony. 
We  rejoiced  in  the  thought  that  we  should  soon  be  rest- 
ing our  tired  eyes  on  the  trees  and  flowers  of  the  beau- 
tiful Berea,  and  be  initiated  into  the  delights  of  the 
unknown  fruits  the  guide-books  dilated  on.  Here,  too, 
in  the  "active  zone"  our  real  work  was  to  begin,  and  all 
were  keen  and  eager. 

By  this  time  the  inhabitants  of  the  Maine  could  boast 
sea-legs  and,  notwithstanding  the  heavy  swell,  we  did 
not  mind  being  told  that  we  should  have  to  remain  out- 
side the  harbor  all  night.  Thirsting  for  news,  however, 
my  younger  son,  who  had  come  with  us  from  Cape 
Town  to  join  the  South  African  Light  Horse  in  Natal, 
started  off  with  one  of  the  ship's  officers  in  a  steam- 
launch  for  the  harbor  and  shore,  little  knowing  that  the 
penalty  for  crossing  the  bar  was  £100,  and  still  less 
that,  owing  to  the  heavy  sea,  a  small  boat  had  no  chance 
of  getting  safely  over.  Luckily  they  were  hailed  by  a 
tug,  with  a  midshipman  on  board  from  H.M.S.  Terri- 
ble, who  was  the  bearer  of  a  message  to  me  from  the 
commandant.  Captain  (now  Admiral  Sir)  Percy  Scott, 
to  the  effect  that  my  son  Winston  was  in  Durban,  hav- 
ing come  on  two  days'  leave  to  meet  me,  and  that  there 
was  no  fresh  news,  or  change  in  the  military  situation. 
This  seemed  inexplicable,  as  when  we  left  Cape  Town 
the  air  was  full  of  the  wildest  rumors,  crucial  develop- 
ments being  expected  hourly.  Ladysmith,  however, 
had  neither  fallen  nor  been  relieved.  The  enemy's  big 
guns  were  firing  away  with  the  same  monotonous  regu- 

427 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

larity,  and  the  list  of  reverses  was  being  steadily  in- 
creased. 

Pending  the  arrival  of  patients  and  longing  for  a  few 
days'  rest,  I  availed  myself  of  a  kind  invitation  from  the 
Governor  of  Natal,  Sir  Walter  Hely-Hutchinson,  to  go 
to  Pietermaritzburg.  Miss  Eleanor  Warrender  and  my 
two  boys  went  with  me,  all  being  duly  armed  with  passes 
and  permissions  sent  us  by  the  commandant.  This  made 
me  realize  that  we  were  under  martial  law,  and  that  no  one 
could  travel  or  be  abroad  after  eleven  o'clock  at  night 
without  official  permission.  Two  very  pleasant  and  re- 
poseful days  were  spent  at  Pietermaritzburg,  but  it  was 
hard  to  say  good-by  to  my  sons,  who  left  the  next  eve- 
ning to  join  the  South  African  Light  Horse.  I  enjoyed 
talking  to  my  host  at  Government  House,  since  his  long 
sojourn  in  Natal  and  his  intimate  knowledge  of  the 
people  and  the  military  situation  gave  particular  in- 
terest to  his  conversation'.  I  visited  the  hospitals  and 
thought  them  admirably  arranged.  The  Town  Hall,  a 
fine  building,  full  of  light  and  air  with  bright  flowers 
decorating  the  tables,  and  soft-voiced  sisters  moving 
about,  seemed  an  ideal  ward.  The  four  long  rows  of 
cots  were  full  and  the  men  liked  talking  about  their 
wounds  and  adventures.  The  Fort  Hospital,  with  its 
small  detached  cottages,  was  more  suited  to  isolated 
cases;  the  officers'  quarters  looking  particularly  com- 
fortable with  rooms  opening  on  the  veranda,  where 
thick  creepers  hanging  from  the  roof  shaded  them  from 
the  sun.  Here  I  visited  Colonel  Long,  who  had  been 
desperately  wounded  at  Colenso.  Notwithstanding  the 
terrible  nature  of  his  wounds  he  received  me  with  a  pleas- 
ant smile.     General  Buller's  scathing  report  on  Long's 

428 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

precipitancy  must  be  fresh  in  every  one's  memory.  The 
press  was  full  of  it,  and  naturally  the  hospital  authori- 
ties tried  to  keep  the  knowledge  from  the  unfortunate 
officer.  A  well-meaning  though  foolish  visitor,  however, 
condoled  with  him,  and  he  never  rested  until  he  had  read 
the  cruel  message.  Colonel  Long  spoke  of  it  to  me 
quite  freely,  saying  in  the  bitterness  of  the  moment  that 
Buller  never  would  have  dared  to  censure  him  in  such 
terms  had  he  not  thought  that  he  was  a  dead  man. 
Leaving  him  lying  there  in  pain,  with  agonizing 
thoughts  of  what  "might  have  been"  and  what  was,  I 
pondered  as  I  went  away  on  the  chances  and  fortune  of 
war,  which  in  a  few  moments  can  mar  the  reputation  of 
the  man  with  a  gallant  record,  and  perhaps  make 
famous  the  commonplace  plodder  who  without  an  idea 
beyond  routine  may  happen  to  be  in  luck.  A  telegram 
from  the  3Iaine,  announcing  that  some  sick  and  wounded 
were  arriving  on  the  following  day,  hastened  my  depar- 
ture. I  traveled  back  by  day  and  enjoyed  the  lovely 
scenery  between  Pietermaritzburg  and  Durban.  The 
astonishing  little  railway  twists  in  and  out,  round  and 
about  the  ever-changing  colored  hills,  making  as  many 
detours  as  the  pretentious  avenue  of  the  millionaire 
whose  palace  you  are  allowed  to  see  for  miles  before  you 
arrive  at  its  door. 

I  found  the  ship's  staff  in  a  pleasurable  state  of  ex- 
citement at  the  prospect  of  the  work  before  them.  In 
the  afternoon  an  ambulance  train  arrived,  bringing  us 
eighty-five  men.  The  British  soldier  is  a  fine  fellow, 
as  the  many  thousand  instances  of  his  coin-age  and  self- 
sacrifice  on  the  field  and  in  action  testify.  Out  of  his 
uniform  he  is  a  big  child,  and  wants  to  be  kept  in  order 

429 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

and  not  too  much  spoiled.  I  am  afraid  we  were  inclined 
to  do  this.  On  the  whole,  I  think  it  can  only  do  good  to 
give  a  man  a  higher  ideal  of  cleanliness  and  comfort 
than  he  has  ever  had  before.  I  had  long  and  frequent 
talks  with  many  of  them.  They  delighted  in  giving 
their  histories  and  experiences,  and  particularly  the 
crowning  one  of  how  they  received  their  wounds,  which 
with  the  slightest  encouragement  they  would  show  with 
great  pride,  as  well  as  the  extracted  bullet,  if  they  had 
one. 

I  was  amused  by  the  letters  which  those  unable  to 
write  dictated  to  me.  They  generally  began,  "Dear 
Father  and  Mother,  I  hope  this  finds  you  well  as  it 
leaves  me."  Then  came  a  great  scratching  of  heads  and 
biting  of  fingers  until  I  would  suggest,  to  start  them  off 
again,  a  description  of  how  they  were  wounded.  "Won't 
you  send  your  love  to  any  one?"  I  asked.  "Not  out  of 
the  family"  was  my  answer,  with  a  reproving  look.  One 
very  gallant  Tommy,  who  lay  with  a  patch  over  his  eye, 
an  inflamed  cheek,  and  a  broken  arm,  asked  me  to  add 
to  his  letter,  "The  sister  which  is  a- writing  of  this  is  very 
nice."  The  compliment  was  fully  appreciated.  A  few 
days  later  we  received  ten  officers  and  ninety  men,  mak- 
ing us  fairly  full.  We  were  busy  from  morning  to 
night.  Indeed  one  never  seemed  to  have  a  moment  to 
write  or  read:  the  one  difficulty  on  board  ship  at  any 
time,  and  more  particularly  on  a  hospital-ship,  is  to  be 
alone,  and  when  alone  to  be  able  to  concentrate.  The* 
parties  of  sick  and  wounded  men  who  came  to  us  were 
drafted  from  the  different  hospitals  of  Frere,  Estcourt, 
Mooi  River  and  Pietermaritzburg.  Apart  from  the 
surgical  and  operating  cases,  the  treatment  consisted 

430 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

principally  of  antiseptic  dressing,  electricity,  and  mas- 
sage, the  use  of  the  gymnasium  apparatus  giving  excel- 
lent results.  The  crowds  of  interested  visitors  who 
flocked  on  board  became  at  last  a  source  of  care  and 
worry  to  us,  and  of  annoyance  to  the  patients.  They 
meant  so  well,  it  seemed  hard  to  turn  them  away,  but  for 
one  tactful,  bona  fide  visitor  who  had  a  friend  to  see, 
twenty  idlers  would  career  over  the  ship,  asking  innu- 
merable questions  impeding  the  work.  The  practice,  had 
to  be  stopped,  and  certain  days  and  hours  fixed.  The 
other  hospital-ship  had  to  do  the  same. 

It  may  be  interesting  to  describe  how  we  worked  our 
wards.  To  begin  with,  apart  from  the  captain  and 
ship's  company,  our  medical  staff  was  comprised  of  the 
commanding  officer,  five  surgeons,  one  superintending  sis- 
ter, four  sisters,  eleven  male  nurses,  ten  orderlies,  and  five 
non-commissioned  officers.  The  personnel  of  each  ward 
was  composed  of  a  head  nurse,  nurses,  orderlies,  stewards 
and  night  nurses  according  to  the  size  of  the  ward  and 
the  number  of  beds  in  it.  The  surgeons  did  their  dress- 
ings and  duties  in  the  morning,  one  of  them  being  told 
off  daily  as  orderly  medical  officer,  whose  duty  was  to 
make  a  thorough  inspection  of  everything,  report  any- 
thing not  correct,  and  to  hear  complaints.  The  super- 
intending sister  had  charge  of  the  head  nurses,  and  was 
responsible  for  all  patients  according  to  the  medical 
officers'  instructions.  The  three  stores— linen,  personal 
equipment,  and  medical  comforts,  auxiliary  to  the  nurs- 
ing department— were  placed  under  the  management 
of  the  superintending  sister,  and  were  respectively  in 
the  charge  of  a  non-commissioned  officer.  These 
N.C.O.s  proved  most  excellent  men.    The  staff-surgeon 

431 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

was  employed  as  record  clerk  and  acting  sergeant- 
major.  He  had  to  keep  the  admission  and  discharge 
book,  which  showed  the  regiment  or  corps,  regiment 
number,  remarks,  name  of  all  patients,  disease  or  disa- 
bility, date  of  admission  or  discharge,  number  of  days 
under  treatment,  ward  in  which  treated,  religion  and 
final  destination.  The  medical  care  and  nursing  and 
innumerable  comforts  we  had  to  give  the  patients,  com- 
bined with  the  cool  fresh  air  on  the  ship,  brought  so 
many  of  them  round  that  we  were  able  to  discharge  them 
fit  for  duty.  These  did  not  go  to  the  front  at  once,  but 
were  sent  to  Pietermaritzburg  or  elsewhere  to  do  light 
duty  till  quite  recovered. 

It  was  astonishing  how  little  the  authorities  were  able 
to  cope  with  the  subject  of  clothing.  At  the  front  the 
men  were  nearly  naked,  their  khaki  hanging  on  them  in 
shreds,  the  uniform  being  made  of  abominable  stuff  and 
having  to  be  worn  for  perhaps  five  or  six  months. 
When  one  reflects  on  the  thousands  and  thousands  of 
pounds  that  were  spent  in  clothing  for  the  hospitals, 
not  only  by  the  Government,  but  by  private  persons,  it 
seems  incredible  that  the  sick  and  wounded  were  al- 
lowed to  leave  one  hospital  to  be  drafted  to  another,  or 
to  a  hospital-ship,  in  the  tattered  garments  in  which  they 
were  carried  in  from  the  battle-field.  With  my  own 
eyes,  I  saw  among  a  party  of  wounded  who  were  being 
transferred  from  a  tug  to  the  Maine  and  another  hos- 
pital-ship, the  Nubia,  a  man  whose  khaki  trousers  were 
conspicuous  by  their  absence,  a  pocket-handkerchief 
being  tied  around  one  of  his  wounded  legs.  This  man 
had  probably  been  through  several  hospitals,  each  time 
sent  off*  again  in  his  rags.    Surely  a  reserve  of  uniforms 

432 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

or  ordinary  clothing  might  have  been  kept  for  extreme 
cases  such  as  this,  and  the  principal  medical  officer  al- 
lowed a  little  discretion  in  the  matter.  But  when  I  dis- 
cussed this  point  with  one  of  the  authorities,  he  said  it 
would  be  an  impossibility.  "You  might  as  well  have  an 
office  for  recording  the  wishes  and  messages  of  the  dy- 
ing." What  a  happy  hunting-ground  the  red-tape  fiend 
has  in  time  of  war !  He  sits  and  gloats  on  all  occasions. 
Think  of  a  man  in  a  hospital  who,  being  on  a  full  diet, 
suddenly  develops  fever,  or  some  other  complication 
needing  an  altered  regime— say  a  milk  diet— having  to 
starve  for  twenty-four  hours  until  the  medical  officer 
makes  his  rounds  again  and  alters  it!  This  was  a  fact. 
Incidents  such  as  these  made  one  admire  the  audacity 
of  Major  Brazier  Creagh,  a  young  and  energetic  ambu- 
lance officer,  who,  when  remonstrated  with  for  spending 
too  much  money  in  comforts,  said  his  business  was  to 
bring  the  sick  and  wounded  down  safely,  and  give  them 
everything  which  would  further  that  end — "not  to  make 
accounts  and  count  the  cost." 

I  was  very  anxious  to  go  up  to  the  front  and  visit  the 
various  hospitals  on  the  way,  and  after  many  pour- 
parlers I  received  permission  and  a  pass  from  General 
Wolfe  Murray  to  go  to  Chieveley  Camp.  The  Gov- 
ernor, Sir  Walter  Hely-Hutchinson,  was  kind  enough 
to  lend  me  his  own  railway  carriage.  Provided  with 
food,  armed  with  kodaks  and  field-glasses,  not  to  men- 
tion a  brown  holland  dress  (my  substitute  for  khaki)  in 
case  we  should  meet  the  enemy  and  wish  to  remain  in- 
visible, we  started  on  our  journey— Miss  Warrender, 
Colonel  Hensman,  the  commanding  officer  of  the  Mainej 
and  myself,  and,  last  but  not  least,  the  coxswain  of  the 

433 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

Terrible  J  Porch  by  name.  Captain  Percy  Scott  intended 
taking  us  up,  but  as  he  was  getting  into  the  train  a  tele- 
gram was  handed  to  him  from  General  Buller,  asking 
for  two  guns  to  be  sent  up  immediately.  This  meant 
forty-eight  hours'  incessant  work  to  get  them  ready,  the 
commandant's  personal  and  active  supervision,  and  the 
loss  to  us  of  a  pleasant  and  instructive  companion.  The 
train  was  full  of  officers  and  men  returning  to  the  front. 
Although  we  were  traveling  at  night  I  was  kept  awake 
by  the  thought  that  I  was  going  to  pass  all  those  well- 
known  and  to  me  peculiarly  interesting  places,  Mooi 
River,  Estcourt,  and  Frere,  scene  of  the  armored-train 
disaster. 

We  arrived  at  Estcourt  in  the  middle  of  the  night.  I 
hung  my  head  out  and  entered  into  a  conversation  with 
a  friendly  sergeant,  who  informed  me  that  in  a  few 
moments  he  would  have  to  call  the  railway  staff  offi- 
cer, whose  duty  it  was  to  inspect  the  train  and  see  that 
no  suspects  were  in  it,  or  travelers  without  passes.  I 
plied  the  sergeant  with  questions.  Had  they  caught 
many  spies,  and  what  happened  to  them?  Several  had 
been  captured,  and  two  nights  before  a  young  lady  who 
had  been  seen  for  a  few  days  riding  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  camp,  had  been  arrested  and  sent  through  to  Durban 
as  a  spy.  He  was  full  of  the  generosity  of  the  Tommies, 
who  came  down  in  the  same  trains  with  some  wounded 
Boers,  telling  how  they  vied  with  each  other  in  atten- 
tions to  their  sick  foes,  sharing  their  tobacco  with  them, 
and  tying  up  their  bandages.  My  new-found  friend 
was  waxing  eloquent  when  suddenly  the  clock  struck 
two,  and  he  left  me  abruptly,  disappearing  inside  the 
station.    He  came  forth  following  a  smart  young  officer, 

434 


HIS    HXCELLENCV.  SIR    WALTER    HELV-HUTCHINSON 
C70veruor  of  Natal  in  1900 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

whose  sleepy,  dazed  eyes  showed  that  he  had  been  hast- 
ily awakened.  Every  pass  was  then  minutely  examined, 
every  face  scanned,  and  I  saw  with  keen  interest  two 
men  dragged  out  of  the  next  compartment,  one  a 
typical  Boer,  the  other  a  small  dark  foreigner.  Both 
were  marched  off — to  what  fate,  one  wonders! 

I  was  asleep  when  we  reached  Frere  at  5  a.m.  A  vig- 
orous tap  on  the  window  awoke  me.  "Lady  Randolph 
Churchill,  are  you  there?"  "Yes,  very  much  so,"  I  an- 
swered, as  I  dropped  the  shutter  and  put  my  head  out, 
finding  an  officer  of  the  Seaforth  Highlanders  on  the 
platform.  "I  knew  you  were  coming  up,  and  thought 
you  would  like  a  cup  of  coffee,"  he  said,  "if  you  will 
accept  the  hospitality  of  my  tin  hut  fifty  yards  from 
here,"  adding,  "You  won't  get  anything  more  for  a 
long  time."  In  my  eagerness  I  was  proceeding  to  jump 
down,  when  he  remarked  that  I  had  no  shoes  on,  and, 
with  a  glance  at  my  disheveled  locks,  suggested  a  hat. 
As  I  walked  to  the  hut,  dawn  was  just  breaking,— 
long  orange-red  streaks  outlined  the  distant  brown  hills ; 
through  the  haze  of  dust  showing  on  the  sky-line  trains 
of  mule-carts  were  crawling  along,  and  in  the  plain  little 
groups  of  soldiers  and  horsemen  were  moving  about, 
emerging  from  the  tents.  My  host  seated  me  on  a  stool 
in  the  tiny  veranda,  and  gave  me  an  excellent  cup  of 
coffee.  He  was  so  delighted  to  have  some  one  to  speak 
to  that  the  words  and  questions  came  tumbling  out. 
Waiting  for  no  answer,  in  one  breath  he  told  me  how 
he  had  been  there  for  months,  broiling,  with  heaps  of 
uncongenial  work  to  do,  all  responsibility  and  anxiety, 
and  no  excitement  or  danger.  He  lived  in  daily  hopes 
of  getting  some  fighting.    INIean while  "Some  one  has  to 

437 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

do  the  dirty  work,"  and  there  it  is!  He  showed  me  the 
hut,  two  cubicles  opening  on  the  veranda,  one  for  the 
aide-de-camp  with  no  bed,  the  other  for  the  Colonel  with 
a  small  camp  stretcher. 

About  twenty  miles  after  leaving  Frere  we  slowed 
down,  and  the  friendly  guard,  knowing  who  I  was, 
rushed  to  tell  me  we  were  passing  the  place  of  the  ar- 
mored train  disaster.  Sure  enough,  there  was  the  train, 
lying  on  its  side,  a  mangled  and  battered  thing,  and 
within  a  few  yards  a  grave  with  a  cross — three  sentries 
mounting  guard — marking  the  place  where  the  poor 
fellows  killed  in  it  were  buried. 

At  Chieveley  we  were  met  by  General  Barton  and  an 
aide-de-camp,  who  took  us  all  over  the  camp.  It  was  a 
wonderful  sight.  The  weatherbeaten  and  in  many  cases 
haggard  men,  with  soiled,  worn  uniforms  hanging  on 
their  spare  figures,  the  horses  picketed  in  lines  or  singly, 
covered  with  canvas  torn  in  strips  to  keep  the  flies  off, 
the  kliaki-painted  guns,  the  ambulance  wagons  with 
their  train  of  mules,  and  above  all  the  dull  booming  of 
"Long  Tom"  made  us  realize  that  here  was  war!  We 
sat  down  on  the  outskirts  of  the  camp  near  a  sham  gun 
guarded  by  a  middy  from  the  Terrible.  Here  also  I 
saw  the  gun  which  the  bluejackets  had  named  after  me. 
Six  miles  off,  through  our  glasses  we  could  see  Colenso 
and  the  enemy's  camp,  the  white  tents  being  those  cap- 
tured from  the  British.  The  whole  panorama  spread  out 
was  a  grand  and  thrilling  sight.  Major  Stuart  Wortley 
and  Captain  MacBean  rode  up  and  greeted  us  warmly, 
but  they,  like  all  the  other  officers,  were  terribly  dejected 
at  the  news  of  the  retreat  from  Spion  Kop,  so  gloriously 
won  and  at  such  a  sacrifice  the  niglit  before.    "They  are 

438 


o 
c 
z 

> 

H 

n 

£ 
5 
< 


> 
2 

-a 

> 
2 
w 
a 


H 

w 

> 

a 

> 
■z 

a 

o 

r 


o 

c 

73 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

actually  on  their  way  back  to  Spearman's  Camp:  what 
can  it  mean?"  The  whole  camp  was  in  a  state  of  disgust 
and  despair  and  "groused"  to  their  heart's  content.  We 
were  invited  by  the  Seventh  Fusiliers  to  have  breakfast 
with  them,  which  was  none  the  less  appetizing  because 
served  in  tin  mugs  and  pewter  plates.  The  flies,  however, 
were  a  terrible  plague,  covering  everything  in  an  instant, 
besides  buzzing  in  one's  face  and  hair.  In  the  hope  of 
hearing  something  of  my  sons,  I  asked  General  Barton 
to  let  me  send  a  letter  to  Spearman's  Camp.  He  kindly 
consented,  and  installed  me  in  his  little  tent.  I  looked 
around  with  curiosity  and  interest  at  the  General's  quar- 
ters: a  camp-stool,  a  washing-basin,  a  box — nothing 
more.  Sitting  on  the  camp-stool  with  my  feet  on  a 
tin  box,  I  was  scribbling  away,  when  a  rider  galloped  up, 
calling  out  in  a  cheery  voice,  "General!  are  you  there?" 
His  look  of  blank  astonishment  when  he  caught  sight  of 
me  was  most  amusing.  A  woman  in  the  camp,  and  in 
the  General's  tent !  I  explained,  and  after  a  few  laugh- 
ing remarks  he  rode  off.  This  was  General  Thorald, 
who  alas!  poor  man,  was  killed  the  following  week. 
Major  Stuart  Wortley  asked  us  to  stay  and  dine,  but  I 
thought  discretion  was  the  better  part  of  valor,  and  not 
wishing  to  abuse  the  General's  kindness  in  letting  us 
come  up,  we  departed,  wishing  these  brave  men  good 
luck  and  the  speedy  relief  of  Ladysmith. 

The  return  journey  was  fearfully  hot.  At  ]Mooi 
River  we  had  two  hours  to  wait,  and  were  met  there  by 
Colonel  Stevenson,  the  remount  officer,  who  had  ar- 
ranged to  show  us  his  great  horse  farm  where  about 
2000  horses  were  at  that  moment  resting  before  being 
sent  to  the  front,  hundreds  of  them  having  just  arrived 

441 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

from  South  America.  What  a  fate !  To  be  penned  up 
for  days  on  a  rolling  ship,  then  crammed  into  an  open 
truck  under  a  blazing  sun,  to  be  taken  out,  stiff,  sore  and 
dazed,  given  two  days'  rest,  and  then  sent  up  to  the  front 
only  to  be  food  for  the  Boer  bullets.  Poor  things — so 
understanding — such  good  friends— the"  hardships  they 
suffered,  and  the  lingering  death  many  had  to  undergo, 
was  one  of  the  most  hideous  features  of  the  war.  Colo- 
nel Stevenson  had  brought  two  Cape  carts,  with  a  capital 
pair  of  ponies  in  each,  which  galloped  at  full  tilt  along 
the  hill  road  to  the  farm,  some  miles  distant.  A  few 
weeks  before,  when  the  Boers  were  within  thirty  miles 
of  Pietermaritzburg,  the  farm  was  in  nightly  danger  of 
being  raided,  and  it  is  surprising  that  it  was  not,  consid- 
ering the  prize  to  be  hauled  in.  But  for  some  reason 
best  known  to  themselves  the  enemy  kept  off.  On 
reaching  our  destination  we  found  to  our  delight  the 
most  welcome  shade,  a  small  house  buried  in  trees,  tents 
agreeably  dotted  about  under  them,  and  horses  every- 
where. Here  a  group  was  waiting  to  be  examined; 
there  a  row  were  being  lunged;  further  on  some  were 
rolling  in  the*  dust,  stretching  their  weary  limbs  in  bliss- 
ful ignorance  of  the  fate  awaiting  them.  They  could 
barely  be  given  time  to  recover  from  their  long  journeys 
before  they  were  hurried  to  the  front.  The  demand  was 
enormous,  the  cry  for  more,  and  the  supply  limited.  In 
vain  two  continents  were  scoured  to  provide  for  the 
cavalry,  its  importance  having  been  too  tardily  recog- 
nized. For  months  Colonel  Stevenson  had  been  living 
on  the  railway,  rushing  off  to  Durban  to  meet  a  con- 
signment from  India,  South  AustraHa,  America  or  Aus- 
traha,  supervising  their  debarkation,  then  flying  back  to 

442 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

despatch  others  to  the  front.  Meanwhile  time  was  press- 
ing. A  hasty  cup  of  tea  and  a  gallop  back  to  the  train, 
and  so  to  Durban  and  duty. 

On  returning  from  Chieveley  I  found  a  telegram 
from  my  sister-in-law,  Lady  Sarah  Wilson,  who  was  in 
Maf  eking.  With  considerable  difficulty  I  had  managed 
to  get  one  to  her. 

Received  by  runner  from  Maf  eking. 

Feb.  m. 

Very  grateful  your  wire.     First  direct  news  family  received. 

All  well  here  but  bombardment  continues  daily.     Health  town 

fairly  good.     Rations  strict  but  sufficient.     We  receive  very 

scanty  news.     Please  wire  again.     Congratulate  you  Winston's 

plucky  escape. 

Sarah. 

(Maf  eking) 

Life  on  board  became  a  round  of  daily  duties,  varied 
only  by  excitement  in  regard  to  war  news.  It  was  in- 
teresting to  distribute  newspapers  to  the  soldiers.  They 
were  so  keen  and  eager  in  discussing  every  point.  Even 
those  who  were  bedridden  and  too  ill  to  read  would 
clutch  you  as  you  passed,  "Any  news?  Ladysmith? 
Nothing?  What,  back  again,  Chieveley  Camp?  That 
BuUer  'e  's  unlucky;  better  try  another;  and  we  wants 
to  get  to  them  poor  chaps."  I  argued  on  the  principle 
that  perhaps  the  general  hoped  to  reculer  pour  mieux 
sauter,  but  the  heads  would  wag  sagely.  I  had  a  large 
map  framed  and  hung  in  one  of  the  wards,  and  with 
much  assiduity  placed  the  flags  according  to  the  situa- 
tion; but  daily  the  Union  Jacks  were  made  to  fly  at 
'^  443 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

Pretoria,  Johannesburg,  or  Ladysmith,  while  the  Boer 
flags  were  carefully  stuck  in  the  frame.  One  night  the 
news  of  Cronje's  surrender  was  signaled  from  the  sta- 
tion. As  soon  as  they  were  told  of  it  a  grand  cheer  went 
up  from  the  men.  Lights  were  flashed,  messages  helio- 
graphed  from  Captain  Percy  Scott's  electric  shutter  on 
board  the  Terrible  to  all  the  ships  in  the  harbor.  The 
band  played  itself  out,  the  men  sang  themselves  hoarse, 
and  at  last  after  a  bouquet  of  fireworks  we  went  to  bed. 
The  next  day  Durban  was  en  fete,  the  harbor  dressed, 
and  every  one  wreathed  in  smiles.  We  dined  at  the 
Royal  Hotel  to  celebrate  the  event,  finding  there  a  mot- 
ley crowd,  principally  men  in  worn  uniforms  who  had 
just  come  down  from  the  front  for  a  few  days'  needed 
rest,  others  just  returning.  There  were  scarcely  any 
ladies,  a  few  refugees  or  officers'  wives  struggling  to 
get  up  nearer  to  the  front,  all  in  the  inevitable  shirt, 
skirt,  and  sailor  hat;  none  of  the  glories  of  Cape  Town 
here !  A  few  of  those  present  were  suspects  and  not  al- 
lowed to  lea\  e  Durban,  having  to  report  themselves  to 
the  commandant's  office  twice  a  week.  He  was  dining 
with  us,  and  seemed  rather  to  enjoy  the  black  looks  cast 
on  him,  bowing  with  much  unction  to  a  formidable  Boer 
lady,  large  in  proportions  and  rasping  as  to  tongue,  with 
whom  he  had  had  a  stormy  interview  that  morning,  she 
wanting  and  insisting  on  getting  a  pass  to  Delagoa  Bay, 
and  he  refusing,  knowing  her  to  be  a  spy,  who  had  given 
much  information  already.  After  dinner  we  sat  in 
groups  in  a  pleasant  conservatory,  getting  into  such 
heated  discussions  as  to  the  progress  of  the  war,  and  the 
merits  and  demerits  of  the  generals,  that  we  were  in 
danger,  like  Cinderella,  of  forgetting  the  hour,  and  had 

444 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

to  rush  off  in  our  jinrikishas  for  fear  of  being  caught 
out  after  eleven  o'clock,  and  marched  off  to  prison ! 

As  an  evidence  of  the  severity  with  which  the  press 
censorship  was  enforced,  I  may  mention  that  I  received 
a  letter  from  General  Barton  from  Chieveley  Camp, 
which  had  been  opened  and  the  usual  pink  paper  pasted 
on  it:  "Opened  under  JNIartial  Law."  I  felt  rather  ag- 
grieved, but  was  told  that  during  the  three  or  four  days 
in  which  everything  coming  from  the  front  was  opened, 
the  movements  of  the  British  troops  were  kept  entirely 
dark  from  the  enemy. 

On  the  29th  came  the  news  of  the  relief  of  Ladysmith, 
and  the  town  went  mad.  A  great  demonstration  was 
organized  for  the  next  day,  opposite  the  Town  Hall, 
under  the  queen's  statue.  The  proceedings  were  brief, 
as  the  continuous  cheering  prevented  any  of  the  speak- 
ers from  being  heard,  but  we  took  for  granted  that  they 
said  all  the  right  things.  We  had  now  been  in  the  har- 
bor six  weeks,  and  the  authorities  after  the  relief  of 
Ladysmith,  being  anxious  to  free  the  various  hospitals 
in  Natal,  to  meet  the  pressure  of  the  sick  and  wounded 
who  were  coming  down,  filled  the  Maine  up  with  convales- 
cents, and  ordered  us  to  prepare  for  return  to  England. 

Before  leaving  I  had  the  good  luck  to  go  up  to  Lady- 
smith, General  Buller  kindly  giving  me  a  pass.  It  was 
no  easy  matter  to  get  permission,  as  there  was  naturally 
a  great  struggle  to  get  people  down,  only  one  hundred 
a  day  being  taken,  and  every  place  counted.  The  rail- 
w^ay  was  frightfully  congested,  and  all  the  wounded  had 
to  be  carried  in  litters  across  the  Tugela  at  Colenso,  on 
a  bridge  consisting  of  three  planks.  INIiss  Warrender 
and  I,  escorted  by  my  son  Winston  and  Captain  Tharp 

445 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

of  the  Rifle  Brigade  (one  of  our  discharged  patients), 
arrived  at  Colenso  at  6  a.m.,  and  after  a  breakfast  of 
"bully  beef,"  which  I  did  not  appreciate,  crossed  the 
bridge  of  planks.  After  viewing  and  kodaking  the  ter- 
rible scene  of  ruin  and  devastation,  where  among  other 
horrors  we  saw  the  carcasses  of  Colonel  Long's  horses  in 
front  of  the  trenches,  we  got  on  a  trolley  pushed  by  na- 
tives, and  left  for  Ladysmith.  This  was  an  excellent  way 
of  seeing  everything,  as  the  whole  of  the  last  two  months' 
fighting  had  been  along  the  line.  One  must  see  it  all  to 
realize  the  stupendous  difficulties;  the  harsh  impossible 
ground  to  get  over,  the  gaining  of  it  inch  by  inch,  the 
smallest  mistake  costing  hundreds  of  lives.  The  masses  of 
shell  and  bullets  on  either  side  of  the  line,  the  dead  horses, 
and  the  newly  made  graves,  testified  to  the  fierceness  of 
the  struggle.  At  one  point  we  crossed  a  small  bridge  built 
up  with  sandbags,  over  which  the  men  had  to  run  singly 
under  a  terrible  fire  from  three  kopjes.  After  two  hours 
we  came  to  an  open  plain  glistening  with  the  discarded 
food  tins  of  the  advancing  army,  and  further  on  went 
through  Intombi  Camp,  broiling  in  the  blazing  sun,  a 
place  of  desolation  and  misery,  and  so  on  into  Ladysmith. 
Blinding  dust  up  to  one's  ankles,  scorching  sun,  shut- 
up  empty  houses,  an  expression  of  resigned  martyrdom 
on  every  one's  face — such  was  my  first  impression  of 
Ladysmith.  Sitting  on  the  top  of  our  gripsacks  on  a 
Scotch  cart  drawn  by  mules,  we  drove  through  the  town, 
presenting  as  we  thought  a  strange  appearance;  but  no 
one  noticed  us.  We  drove  to  the  Convent,  General  Bul- 
ler's  headquarters,  where  his  aide-de-camp,  Lord  Gerard, 
received  us.  The  building  showed  conspicuous  signs  of 
its  bombardment.    Sir  Redvers  invited  Miss  Warrender 

446 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

and  myself  to  dine,  and  offered  us  beds,  though  he  did 
not  promise  sheets!  We  accepted  gratefully,  having 
vainly  tried  to  get  a  room,  and  the  prospect  of  food  had 
not  appeared  on  the  horizon.  We  visited  the  Tin  Camp, 
turned  into  a  hospital.  It  was  wonderfully  well-ar- 
ranged, considering  the  difficulties,  but  seemed  a  hopeless 
place  to  get  well  in.  Lord  Dundonald,  who  com- 
manded the  South  African  Light  Horse,  lent  us  a  spider 
and  a  wild  horse  which  had  never  been  in  harness  before, 
and  driven  by  a  sergeant  we  careered  over  rocks  and 
dongas  four  miles  to  the  camp  of  the  Light  Horse, 
where  we  had  tea  out  of  bottles  and  tin  mugs.  By  this 
time  I  was  too  tired  to  take  in  any  more,  and  the  hazard- 
ous drive  back  in  the  semi-darkness  quite  finished  me. 
Making  a  hasty  and  apologetic  toilet  we  dined  with 
the  general  in  a  tent  commanding  a  fine  view  of  the 
town.  The  dinner  was  good  and  the  company  better. 
Sir  Redvers  (who  was  in  good  spirits)  was  most  inter- 
esting and  pleasant.  He  told  me  that  he  expected  one 
more  big  fight  and  that  it  would  be  the  following  week, 
if  he  could  get  his  commissariat  up,  but  that  for  the 
time  being,  the  line  was  hopelessly  blocked. 

While  in  Ladysmith  besides  the  scathing  criticisms  I 
heard  passed  on  the  recent  operations,  some  amusing 
stories  and  incidents  were  related.  This  message  from 
the  chief  of  the  staff  to  the  officer  commanding 
Caesar's  Camp  is  worth  recording : 

The  General  Officer  commanding  has  left  to  visit  you  via 
Wagon  Hill;  he  intends  to  resume  former  position  as  soon  as 
dead  and  wounded  are  buried,  but  will  strengthen  Caesar's 
Camp  by  Rifle  Brigade ! 

447 


REMINISCENCES  OF 


programme 


SIEGE  THEATRE  OF  VARIETIES,  LADYSMITH 
SECOND  GRAND  PROMENADE  CONCERT 

UNDER  THE  AUSPICES  OF 

THE  NAVAL  VOLUNTEERS 
Tuesday,  Bee.  25,  1899 

UlTDER  THE  BOOMING  PATHONAGE  AND  IN  THE  PRESENCE  OF 

*  Silent  Sue ' 
'BulwanBiU' 
Pom-Pom ' 
'Weary  Willie' 

and  others  who  since  last  concert— through  circumstances  over  which 
they  had  no  control— are  unable  to  take  any  active  part. 

t 

Concert  to  commence  at  7:45  p.  m.  Bunny  Holes  at  9:45 


448 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Some  interesting  mementos,  including  the  follow- 
ing letters  found  on  two  dead  Boers,  and  the  program 
of  a  concert  held  on  Christmas  Day : 

(1)  Translation  of  a  letter  from  a  Boer  gunner 
found  inside  the  breastwork  on  Gun  Hill  by  the  storm- 
ing party  on  December  7,  1899: 

My  dear  Sister, 

.  .  .  It  is  a  month  &  seven  days  since  we  besieged  Ladysmlth, 
&  I  do  not  know  what  will  happen  further.  The  English  we  see 
every  day  walking  about  the  town  &  we  are  bombarding  the 
town  every  day  with  our  cannon.  They  have  erected  plenty  of 
breastworks  outside  the  town.  It  is  very  dangerous  to  attack 
the  town.  Near  the  town  they  have  two  naval  guns  from  which 
we  receive  very  heavy  fire  which  we  cannot  stand.  I  think  there 
will  be  much  bloodshed  as  Mr.  Englishman  fights  hard,  &  is 
well,  &  our  burghers  are  a  bit  frightened.  I  would  like  to  write 
more,  but  the  sun  is  very  hot,  &  still  further  the  flies  are  so 
troublesome,  that  I  don't  get  a  chance  of  sitting  still. 

Your  affectionate  Brother. 

(2)  Extract  from  a  Boer  letter  found  in  the  trenches 
at  Colenso: 

Don't  forget  to  bring  me  a  d .  .  .  .  d  Englishman  tied  by  the 
leg  like  a  goat,  in  order  that  I  may  have  the  pleasure  of  killing 
him  myself. 

This  from  a  daughter  to  her  father— sweet  child  I 
I  brought  back  various  trophies— Pom-Poms,  soft- 
nosed  bullets  with  murderous  slits ;  a  grain  of  Long  Tom 
an  inch  square;  Boer  bandoliers;  a  Queen's  chocolate 
box  taken  off  a  dead  Boer;  and  last,  but  not  least,  the 
casing  of  a  shell,  fired  at  Chieveley  by  the  gun  named 

449 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

after  me,  which  the  Bluejackets  sent  with  this  inscrip- 
tion : 

4.7  gun  mounted  in  a  railway  truck  by  H.M.S.  Terrible  and 
christened  the  "Lady  Randolph  Churchill"  Extract  Chieveley: 
We  took  Lady  Randolph  Churchill  down  past  Gun  Hill  to-day 
&  opened  fire  on  the  low  copj  at  5,300  yards,  the  first  named 
flushed  a  lot  of  Boers  &  the  second  (a  lyddite)  went  right  in 
among  them,  causing  terrible  havoc;  the  bluejackets  would 
like  to  send  the  cartridge  case  to  her  ladyship. 

We  returned  next  morning  in  the  Red  Cross  train 
with  the  wounded.  Major  Brazier  Creagh,  the  ambu- 
lance officer  already  mentioned,  being  in  charge.  We 
had  a  busy  week  in  Durban  before  leaving.  The  Maine 
had  a  good  send-ofF  and  the  ships  inside  and  outside  the 
harbor  cheered  us  vociferously.  I  was  sorry  to  leave 
Durban,  where  every  one  had  been  so  hospitable  and 
kind  to  us,  and  so  generous  to  our  patients,  but  home 
meant  much  to  all  on  board.  Sir  George  White  ^  came 
on  board  before  we  started,  looking  very  ill  after  his 
hardships  and  anxieties.  He  was  tremendously  cheered 
by  our  men,  who  look  upon  him  as  a  hero  and  a  lovable 
man. 

Owing  to  the  relief  of  Ladysmith  the  authorities  were 
anxious  to  send  home  as  many  patients  as  possible  in 
order  to  free  the  various  hospitals  in  Natal  to  meet  the 
pressure  of  the  sick  and  wounded  who  were  coming 
down.  Six  thousand  had  to  be  conveyed  to  England 
somehow.  The  five  large  hospital-ships  lying  in  Durban 
Harbor  were  to  be  filled,  and  the  Maine  was  asked  to 
assist  and  return  at  once.    This  time  it  would  have  been 

1  Defender  of  Ladysmith. 

450 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

ungracious  to  refuse,  although  to  do  transport  work  was 
not  the  mission  we  had  intended  for  the  ship.  On  our 
return  to  Cape  Town  to  our  dismay  the  war  authorities 
sent  to  say  that  the  committee  from  London  had  cabled 
to  the  effect  that  the  Maine  was  not  to  return,  and  there- 
fore all  the  sick  and  wounded  were  to  be  drafted  to  the 
different  hospitals  in  Cape  Town,  and  we  were  to  remain 
to  receive  in  time  other  cases.  Great  was  the  consterna- 
tion on  board.  The  officers  and  men,  with  whom  every 
berth  was  filled,  thought  that  they  were  going  home  at 
once  and  were  in  despair  at  the  prospect  of  being  de- 
tained at  Cape  Town.  Being  certain  that  the  commit- 
tee did  not  realize  the  situation,  I  flew  on  shore  and 
bearded  the  Principal  Medical  Officer,  telling  him  that  I 
intended  the  Maine  to  leave  at  daybreak  the  next  morn- 
ing, as  previously  arranged,  and  that  I  was  cabling  to 
the  minister  of  war  to  back  me  up.  Remonstrances 
were  in  vain,  for  before  the  day  was  out  I  received  a 
welcome  answer  from  Lord  Lansdowne  confirming  me 
in  my  decision. 

Before  leaving  I  paid  a  flying  visit  to  Groote  Schuur, 
unfortunately  missing  JVIr.  Cecil  Rhodes,  who  had  left 
that  afternoon  for  England.  But  Colonel  F.  Rhodes 
was  there,  fresh  from  Ladysmith,  a  host  in  himself, 
whose  praises  could  not  be  sung  loud  enough  by  all  who 
.  were  in  the  besieged  city.  His  cablegram  on  Christmas 
Day  to  his  brother  Cecil  in  Kimberley  was  character- 
istic: "Happy  Christmas!  How  thoroughly  you  have 
misunderstood  the  situation." 

I  was  too  late  to  see  the  Portland  Hospital,  which  I 
regretted,  as  I  heard  it  was  quite  a  model  and  had  been 
doing  wonders.     I  dined  at  the  Mount  Nelson  Hotel, 

««  451 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

where  I  must  own  to  having  been  much  astonished — the 
dresses,  the  babble  of  both  men  and  women,  were  be- 
wildering, and  seemed  under  the  circumstances  rather 
out  of  place,  and  a  great  contrast  to  the  realities  of  Dur- 
ban. But  too  much  has  perhaps  already  been  said  about 
it,  and  it  would  be  a  pity,  and  I  hope  impossible,  if  the 
appearance  and  conduct  of  some  inconscient  and  frivo- 
lous beings  should  efface  the  splendid  and  self-sacrific- 
ing work  done  by  many  noble  women  who  deserve  to  be 
long  remembered  both  in  Natal  and  in  Cape  Colony. 

On  our  return  journey,  favored  with  delicious  weather, 
the  sick  and  wounded  soon  picked  up.  They  used  to  sit 
within  a  few  yards  of  my  cabin  singing  and  chattering 
all  day  about  their  destinations  and  plans.  We  stopped 
at  St.  Helena  to  get  water,  which  we  did  in  such  primi- 
tive fashion  that  it  took  48  hours  instead  of  24.  But  it 
gave  us  a  chance  of  visiting  the  island.  We  had  thought 
to  find  Cronje  and  his  defeated  army  there,  but  they 
were  still  waiting  at  Cape  Town  for  the  arrival  of  the 
militia  regiment  from  England  deputed  to  guard 
them.  St.  Helena,  with  its  bare  rocks,  looked  formid- 
able and  awe-inspiring  as  we  approached.  With  diffi- 
culty I  procured  a  conveyance,  a  high  curricle  which, 
from  its  antiquated  appearance,  must  have  done  duty  for 
Sir  Hudson  Lowe  in  1820.  With  Eleanor  Warrender 
I  drove  up  to  Longwood,  taking  two  hours,  as  the  road 
was  rough  and  hilly  and  we  could  only  go  at  a  foot's 
pace.  A  long  low  wooden  building  on  the  top  of  a  bleak 
mountain,  without  any  vegetation,  the  sea  the  only  hori- 
zon, this  was  where  the  great  Napoleon  lived  for  years 
and  ended  his  days.  What  torture!  I  could  not  shake 
off  the  impression.     "Think,"  I  said,  to  some  young 

452 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

officers  with  whom  we  had  tea  in  the  camp  hard  by,  "of 
a  man  who  has  conquered  the  world  ending  his  days  in 
exile  in  this  dreadful  spot."  "But  I  assure  you,"  an- 
swered one  of  them,  a  rosy-cheeked  young  fellow  of 
twenty,  "we  are  no  better  off.  There  is  absolutely  noth- 
ing to  do  here,  and  I  too  find  the  scenery  hideous,"  I 
ventured  to  remark  that  he  was  not  Napoleon,  but  he 
did  not  see  any  difference,  or  why  the  others  laughed. 
Deadwood  Camp  was  pointed  out  to  me,  where  the  Boer 
prisoners  were  to  be  quartered.  It  was  surrounded  with 
barbed  wire  in  imitation  of  the  manner  in  which  the 
English  prisoners  were  kept  in  Pretoria.  I  visited  Gov- 
ernment House,  where  Napoleon  wanted  to  live,  but  was 
refused.  The  beauty  of  the  grounds,  which  were  culti- 
vated and  abounded  in  beautiful  trees  and  rare  shrubs, 
was  in  marked  contrast  to  the  arid  desolation  of  Long- 
wood.  A  pilgrimage  to  Napoleon's  tomb  brought  our 
visit  to  a  close. 

Stopping  at  Madeira,  we  had  the  misfortune  to 
lose  from  acute  phthisis  one  of  our  non-commissioned 
officers.  Poor  fellow,  he  had  so  hoped  to  live  to  see 
home  and  his  wife  and  children,  but  tlie  end  came 
suddenly.  He  was  buried  on  shore,  the  governor,  the 
Marquis  de  Funchal,  sending  an  A.D.C.  to  represent 
the  garrison,  many  residents  joining  in  the  procession 
and  sending  beautiful  flowers.  Never  having  witnessed 
a  military  funeral  before,  I  thought  it  very  impressive, 
and  the  volley  firing  and  the  "I^ast  Post"  with  its  long- 
drawn  unfinished  note  most  pathetic. 

It  can  be  imagined  with  wliat  emotion  we  entered 
Southampton  Water,  all  expecting  to  see  relations  and 
friends  on  the  quay,  as  I  had  telegraphed  the  probable 

453 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

hour  of  arrival.  Unfortunately  the  telegram  arrived 
too  late,  and  the  Committee  and  all  those  who  were  anx- 
ious to  welcome  us  arrived  an  hour  after  the  officers  had 
more  or  less  dispersed  and  the  men  been  removed  to 
Netley  Hospital.  So  ended  the  first  voyage  of  the 
Maine.  Before  leaving  I  received  the  following  grati- 
fying letter : 

April  22,  1900. 
Dear  Lady  Randolph, 

We  wish  before  we  leave  to  express  our  sincere  gratitude  to 
the  donors  &  committee  of  the  American  Hospital  Ship 
Maine  for  their  great  generosity  &  kindness  in  sending  the 
Maine  to  South  Africa.  It  is  impossible  to  express  in  a  few 
words  adequate  thanks  for  all  the  comforts  we  have  received  on 
board,  but  we  hope  you  will  convey  to  the  Committee,  &,  as 
far  as  possible,  the  donors,  our  heartfelt  thanks  for  what  they 
have  done  for  us.  Their  goodness  will  be  long  remembered. 
We  would  also  wish  to  express  our  extreme  gratitude  to  you, 
and  the  staff  of  the  Maine  for  all  the  kind  care  and  attention 
we  have  received.  We  hope  the  next  voyage  of  the  ship  will  be 
as  pleasant  to  you,  as  this  one  has  been  to  all  of  us. 

Euic  Streatfield,  Capt.  Gordon  Highlanders. 

C.  Blackburne  Tew,  14th  Yorkshire  Regt. 

W.  WiNGFiELD,  19th  Hussars. 

R.  T.  Meiklejohn,  1st  Royal  Warwickshire  Regt. 

H.  R.  Gunning,  1st  Devonshire  Regt. 

E.  G.  Caffin,  Lieut.  19th  (P.  W.  O.)  Yorkshire  Regt. 

A.  S.  Campbell,  Lieut.  19th  (P.  W.  O.)  Hussars. 

H.  Capel  Cure,  Major  Gloster  Regt. 

E.  M.  Gloster,  Capt.  1st  Devonshire  Regt. 

J.  S.  Byrne,  Lieut.  21st  Royal  Lmiskillen  Fusiliers. 

A.  Wise,  Lieut.  21st  Connaught  Rangers. 

M.  Carbery,  Lieut.  1st  Royal  Irish  Fusiliers. 

454 


I 


r. 

c 


S5 


5  ^ 

5'  H 


o    > 

tfi    1; 

2.  r 


o    S 

n   m 
'5  a 


IT 


c 


c 


n 


'  ■  -i^-.'ViwjJ* -.'.^  ■ 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

Later  at  a  meeting  of  the  general  committee  of  the 
Maine,  I  explained  to  their  satisfaction  my  reasons  for 
bringing  the  ship  back,  notwithstanding  their  cable. 

During  the  Maine's  absence  of  four  months  Mrs. 
Adair,  the  Vice- Chairman,  went  to  America  in  the  in- 
terest of  the  Fund,  and  succeeded  in  enlisting  the  active 
cooperation  of  a  number  of  ladies  in  New  York  and 
elsewhere,  who  by  their  generous  exertions  materially 
aided  us.  Mrs.  Ronalds,  our  indefatigable  Treasurer, 
was  able  to  give  a  good  account  of  our  budget  and  Lord 
Lansdowne  wrote,  "The  Maine  is  doing  great  work  for 
us;  we  cannot  be  too  grateful  to  those  who  have  con- 
tributed to  the  comfort  of  the  sick  and  wounded." 
Queen  Victoria  also  sent  us  a  message  through  Princess 
Louise,  Duchess  of  Argyll : 

Windsor,  April  8,  1900. 
Dear  Mrs.  Ronalds, 

The  Queen  desires  me  to  say  that  she  is  much  gratified  to 
hear  what  good  work  the  Maine  has  been  doing  among  the 
wounded  in  South  Africa,  and  I  am  to  express  Her  Majesty's 
great  appreciation  of  this  generous  undertaking.  The  Queen 
trusts  that  the  Maine  is  making  a  good  and  successful  voyage 
home,  and  that  she  will  be  able  to  land  her  patients  much  bene- 
fited from  the  care  they  will  have  had  on  their  homeward  jour- 
ney. 

Yours  very  sincerely, 

Louise. 

The  ship  started  on  its  second  voyage  to  South  Africa 
on  the  3d  of  May,  1900,  with  ever>i:hing  organ- 
ized and  settled,  the  outcome  of  the  experience  we  had 
gained  in  the  months  of  active  work.     After  her  re- 

457 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

turn  she  was  sent  to  Chinese  waters  (where  hostihties 
were  just  beginning),  under  the  command  of  Major 
Meek,  M.D.,  R.A.M.C.,  who  proved  the  most  excellent 
and  conscientious  officer.  The  committee  wisely 
thought  that,  owing  to  the  British  and  Americans  hav- 
ing no  hospital-ship,  the  Maine  could  be  of  greater  use 
in  China  than  in  South  Africa,  where  by  that  time  the 
transport  and  care  of  the  wounded  had  been  organized 
on  a  very  large  scale. 

It  would  take  too  long  here  to  give  a  detailed  account 
of  the  Maine's  doings  in  the  Far  East.  Suffice  it  to  say 
that  during  the  China  cruise  twenty-one  officers  and 
333  men,  irrespective  of  nationality,  were  treated  on 
board  during  the  five  months  of  her  stay.  The  British, 
American,  and  European  forces  having  withdrawn  from 
Tientsin,  and  Taku  being  frozen  in  as  the  winter  came 
on,  the  committee  ordered  the  vessel  home,  thinking 
that  she  had  fulfilled  her  mission. 

In  appreciation  of  her  service  I  received  among  many 
others  letters  of  thanks  to  the  American  Ladies'  Com- 
mittee from  the  Hon.  Elihu  Root,  American  Secretary 
of  War,  the  Lords  Commissioners  of  the  Admiralty, 
and  Vice  Admiral  Seymour,  giving  official  testimony 
to  the  gratitude  in  which  he  held  her  work. 

The  War  Department, 

Washington,  Dec.  11,  1900. 
Dear  Madam, 

I  beg  you  to  convey  to  the  Ladies  of  the  Executive  Commit- 
tee of  the  American  Hospital  Ship  Maine  the  thanks  of  the 
Army  of  the  United  States  for  the  humane  and  effective  service 

458 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

rendered  by  that  ship  in  caring  for  wounded  countrymen  in 
China  during  the  past  summer. 

Faithfully  yours, 

Elihu  Root, 

Secretary  of  War. 

Admiealty,  14th  Jan.,  1901. 
Deak  Madam, 

I  am  commanded  by  my  Lords  Commissioners  of  the  Ad- 
miralty to  transmit  for  your  information,  herewith  a  copy  of  a 
letter  received  from  the  Commander-in-Chief,  China  Station, 
relating  to  the  American  Hospital  Ship  Maine  recently  em- 
ployed on  that  station,  and  to  express  their  Lordships'  thanks 
and  appreciation  of  the  generous  action  of  the  American 
Ladies'  Committee  in  thus  placing  their  ship  at  the  disposal  of 
the  sick  and  wounded  in  Chinese  waters. 

I  am.  Madam, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

Evan  MacGregor. 

Alacrity  at  Shanghai,  21st  Dec,  1900. 

To  the  Secretary  of  the  Admiralty, 

Sir, 

The  Hospital  Ship  Maine  being  about  to  leave  China  for 
England,  I  cannot  let  the  occasion  pass  without  asking  their 
Lordships  to  give  expression  to  the  gratitude  which  the  officers 
and  men  of  the  China  Squadron  all  feel  towards  the  American 
ladies  for  their  generosity  and  thoughtful  kindness  in  en- 
deavouring to  mitigate  the  suffering  of  the  sick  and  wounded 
of  all  nations  during  the  recent  hostilities,  by  fitting  up  and 
maintaining  that  ship.  The  attention  paid  to  the  sick  and 
wounded,  and  the  arrangements  made  for  their  comforts   on 

459 


REMINISCENCES  OF 

board,  must  have  greatly  alleviated  the  hard  lot  of  many  who 
suffered,  and  have  helped  and  hastened  others  on  their  road  to 
recovery  of  health.  This  action  of  the  American  ladies  cannot 
fail  to  have  a  good  effect  in  helping  to  draw  together  the 
civilized  nations  of  the  world,  especially  their  nation  and  ours. 
I  have  the  honour  to  be,  Sir, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

E.  H.  Seymour, 
(Vice  Admiral). 

On  her  return  from  China  the  President  of  the  At- 
lantic Transport  Company,  Mr.  Bernard  Baker,  pre- 
sented the  ship  to  the  British  Government,  the  Ladies' 
Committee  giving  all  the  hospital  fittings  and  equip- 
ment. The  ship  had  been  in  commission  fifteen  months, 
during  which  time  the  ship  and  crew  were  with  great 
generosity  provided  by  the  Company.  Mr.  Baker  was 
publicly  thanked  in  both  Houses  of  Parliament,  and  the 
Committee  had  a  gold  medal  struck  to  commemorate  the 
work  of  the  Maine,  which  was  presented  to  the  King. 
In  accepting  it  his  Majesty  said  that  "the  fact  that  it  had 
been  intended  for  his  beloved  mother  made  it  specially 
valued  and  that  the  culminating  present  of  the  ship  to 
the  British  Government  he  trusted  would  always  remain 
as  a  lasting  link  of  friendship  between  the  two  coun- 
tries." 

Thus  ended  a  most  successful  enterprise  which  I  think 
I  may  claim  reflected  the  greatest  credit  on  all  con- 
cerned. As  I  am  not  writing  the  history  of  the  A.H.S. 
Maine,  it  stands  to  reason  that  much  has  been  left  un- 
said, and  that  where  all  worked  with  such  splendid  zeal 
it  would  be  invidious  to  single  any  one  out.    There  may 

460 


LADY  RANDOLPH  CHURCHILL 

have  been  some  mistakes,  but  on  the  whole  it  can  but  be 
a  pleasant  memory  to  those  who  participated  in  what 
may  undoubtedly  be  called  an  historical  episode.  To 
me  it  was  one  of  the  most  thrilling  experiences  of  my 
life,  certainly  the  most  important  public  work  I  have 
ever  tried  to  do. 

A  few  months  later  (July,  1900)  I  bade  farewell  to 
Lady  Randolph  Churchill,  who  then  took  the  name  of 
the  chronicler  of  these  Reminiscences. 

THE  END 


463 


APPENDIX 


APPENDIX 

TRANSLATIONS  OF  FRENCH  LETTERS 

Page  16 

Vienna,  June  8,  1891. 
Dear  Lady  Randolph: 

I  have  just  received  a  letter  in  which  you  express  a  desire  to  have  the 
pantomime  ballet  "Puppenfee"  performed  in  aid  of  a  charitable  society. 

I  am  greatly  flattered  that  you  should  do  so;  for  we  are  its  authors.  The 
"Puppenfee"  was  acted  for  the  first  time  under  our  roof  in  the  country  in 
Bohemia. 

I  shall  ask  the  ballet-master  at  the  Opera  to  send  me  the  libretto  contain- 
ing all  the  necessary  notes  and  indications.  So  far  as  costumes  are  con- 
cerned, nothing  could  be  simpler,  for  you  are  at  liberty  to  choose  whatever 
you  want.  Only — for  the  solo  dances — it  is  necessary  to  provide  Japanese, 
Spanish,  Styrian  or  Tyrolese,  and  Chinese  women,  and  a  baby  like  the  dolls 
that  cry  "Papa"  and  "Mama."     In  other  respects,  give  rein  to  your  fancy. 

The  awakening  of  the  dolls  takes  place  at  midnight  when  the  shop  is 
closed,  so  that  when  she  is  roused  by  the  witches'  Sabbath  going  on,  the 
shop-woman  enters,  and  then  faints  away  from  fright,  after  being  swept 
along  in  the  crazy  rounds  of  the  dolls  come  to  life.  When  she  revives  from 
her  swoon,  she  finds  everything  once  more  in  perfect  order  and  all  the  dolls 
absolutely  motionless. 

Then  it  is  that  the  shop-woman  steps  to  the  footlights  and  in  dumb  show 
gives  the  spectators  to  understand  that  evidently  she  has  been  the  victim  of  a 
dream. 

As  you  perceive,  the  plan  is  very  simple,  and  no  great  imagination  was 
required  to  invent  it. 

Accept,  dear  Lady  Randolph,  assurances  of  my  best  and  most  affectionate 
regards. 

P.  Metternich. 


Page  S3 

OsTEND,  Oct.  21,  1870. 
My  Dear  Duke: 

I  arrived  in  Ostend  four  days  ago,  and  found  your  address  at  our  mutual 
friends',  the  Dureaus. 

Since  our  separation  on  the  7th  I  have  remained  in  Belgium,  and  should 
have  asked  for  news  of  you  during  that  time  if  I  had  known  where  to 
send  a  letter.  I  now  seize  eagerly  the  opportunity  which  is  offered  me 
through  meeting  the  excellent  prefect  of  Orleans,  to  have  a  few  moments' 
chat  with  j^ou. 

Being  threatened  with  arrest  on  September  4,  I  departed  that  evening,  and 

467 


APPENDIX 

sought  refuge  first  at  Namur  where  twenty- four  hours  later  I  was  joined  by 
my  wife  and  daughters. 

My  chief  aim  in  journeying  to  Namur  was  to  be  near  Sedan,  that  I  might 
learn  the  fate  of  my  son,  for  whom  I  had  great  anxiety.  After  several  days 
of  inquiry,  I  at  last  learned  that  my  son,  after  having  been  wounded  at 
Sedan  (a  horse  having  been  killed  under  him),  was  a  prisoner  at  Cologne,  as 
he  would  not  accept  for  himself  the  capitulation. 

I  left  Namur  for  Spa,  and  a  sojourn  there  not  being  very  comfortable  in 
the  winter,  I  established  myself  at  Ostend,  where  I  await  events,  the  issue  of 
wliich  I  cannot  foresee. 

How  I  wish,  my  dear  Duke,  that  my  pen  were  clever  enough  to  convey  to 
you  all  the  impressions  I  have  received  since  the  fatal  Sedan.  I  have  come 
to  the  point  of  asking  myself  how  a  disaster  of  such  dimensions  could  be 
produced  without  the  principal  author  of  this  lugubrious  drama  being  buried 
under  the  corpses  of  his  army, 

I  had  thought  that  it  was  easier  to  die  than  to  suffer  dishonor. 

The  death  of  the  Emperor  at  Sedan  would  have  saved  France,  as  well  as 
his  son ;  the  capitulation  has  lost  everything. 

Now  that  France  has  become  the  prey  of  foreign  and  domestic  Vandals, 
how  can  this  desolation  of  our  unhappy  country  be  brought  to  an  end ! 

Unless  there  should  be  a  general  war  creating  a  division  in  Prussian  poli- 
tics, I  do  not  see  to  what  side  we  can  turn.  England  appears  to  have 
abandoned  us,  and  however  the  circumstances  which  cemented  our  alliance 
of  1856  might  be  reproduced  for  her,  even  then  she  could  not  count  on  our 
help,  we  have  fallen  so  low ! 

I  had  offered  my  services  to  the  government  of  the  National  defence,  but 
I  withdrew  my  offer  as  soon  as  I  saw  the  government,  to  the  eternal  shame 
of  France,  call  a  Garibaldi  to  defend  her. 

On  the  other  hand,  accusations  of  treason  reach  all  the  generals  who  have 
served  the  Empire,  and  I  am  not  willing  to  have  my  name  bandied  among 
aU  these  ignominies. 

Adieu,  my  dear  Duke.  If  you  will  be  so  good  as  to  send  me  news  of  your- 
self, my  family  and  I  will  be  happy  indeed  .  .  .  for  our  hearts  are  full  of 
gratitude. 

Ever  yours. 

General  de  Palikao. 


Page  35 

Wilhelmshohe,  Jan.  7,  1871. 
My  Dear  Persigny: 

I  have  received  your  letter  of  the  first  of  January,  and  thank  you  for  the 
prayers  you  offer  for  a  better  future.  Without  desiring  to  enter  into  a  dis- 
cussion of  the  ideas  you  express,  I  will  say  to  you  that  nothing  good  can 
come  from  the  confusion  which  is  the  result  of  individual  efforts,  made 
without  discretion,  and  without  authority.  In  fact  I  find  it  somewhat  sin- 
gular that  any  one  should  busy  himself  with  the  future  of  my  son,  without 
taking  account  of  my  own  intentions. 

I  know  you  have  written  to  M.  de  Bismarck,  who  naturally  has  demanded 
of  me  if  you  have  done  so  with  my  authority  and  in  full  accord  with  me. 
I  have  answered  him  that  I  have  authorized  nobody  to  busy  himself  with  my 
interests,  and  those  of  my  son,  without  first  obtaining  my  consent. 

Believe,  my  dear  Persigny,  in  my  friendship. 

Napoleon. 


468 


APPENDIX 

Page  198 
Sheen   House, 

East  Sheex,  Surrey,  July  25,  '88. 


My  Dear  Lady  Randou'h: 


You  have  been  so  kind  as  to  interest  yourself  somewhat  in  our  attempts 
at  a  league  in  France,  and  I  take  the  liberty  of  sending  you  the  two  cir- 
culars which  we  shall  have  printed  and  distributed  in  a  few  days.  I  hope 
you  will  read  them  indulgently,  and  keep  them,  so  that,  if  we  should  in  time 
attain  to  happy  results,  we  shall  be  able  later  to  talk  them  over  together. 
You  know  that  it  is  you  who  first  gave  me  the  idea  of  doing  something  simi- 
lar in  France,  and  so  I  think  of  you  always  in  this  great  undertaking,  and 
already  I  owe  to  you,  even  before  beginning,  the  firm  faith  I  have  that  we 
shall  succeed  by  following  your  example. 

The  Rose  League  will  never  be  the  equal  of  the  Primrose  League;  but  per- 
haps they  may  meet  often  in  the  future. 

If  I  have  not  mentioned  the  Primrose  League  in  the  circular,  it  is  solely 
because  I  have  not  dared  compare  the  immense  success  of  tlie  first  flower 
with  the  modest  beginnings  of  the  second;  but  in  private  letters,  and  in 
speaking  to  all  those  who  are  willing  to  work  with  me,  I  have  always  men- 
tioned it,  in  order  to  give  every  one  the  same  idea:  to  succeed  as  you  have. 

Forgive  me  for  my  ambition,  and  believe  me,  until  I  shall  have  the  pleasure 
of  meeting  you  again. 

Yours  very   aflfectionately, 

Isabelle,  Comtesse  de  Paris. 


Page  201 
Sheen   House, 

East  Sheen,  Surrey,  October  7,  1888. 
My  Dear  Lady  Randolph: 

I  do  not  know  whether  you  are  in  London,  but  I  send  you  a  line  there  to 
say  that  I  received  last  night  a  number  of  the  "Primrose  League  Gazette," 
with  a  very  kind  article  on  the  Rose  League.  I  want  to  thank  you  for  send- 
ing it,  and  for  the  article,  for  I  feel  quite  sure  that  you  liad  a  very  groat  part 
in  it.  If  I  am  wrong  pray  express  my  thanks  to  the  author.  The  Primrose 
League  is  indeed  kind  to  welcome  so  cordially  its  younger  sister — the  Rose 
League. 

I  sent  you,  day  before  yesterday,  a  number  of  the  "Soleil,"  so  that  you 
might  see  our  new  paper  in  its  entirety.  You  doul)tless  recognized  certain 
phrases,  and  I  hope  you  will  approve  of  what  I  have  done;  I  have,  I  think, 
followed  your  advice.  I  hear  good  reports  from  every  side;  it  appears  that 
the  Rose  is  progressing  excellently;  I  hope  this  enthusiasm  will  continue,  and 
it  will  be  to  you,  above  all,  that  we  shall  owe  our  success. 

I  hope  soon  to  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  again;  and  in  the  meantime 
pray  believe  me 

Yours  very  aflfectionately. 


Isabelle,  Comtesse  de  Paris. 

469 


APPENDIX 

Page  2^7 

Chesham  House, 

Chesham  Place,  S.  W.,  October  31,  1902. 
Dear  Madame  akd  Friend: 

Here  is  the  very  old  face  of  a  very  old  man  who  is  half-dead  but  who 
likes  you  very  much. 

Do  not  receive  it  too  unkindly. 

Sincerely  yours, 

Staal. 


Page  270 
Dear  Madame: 

For  a  long  while  I  have  been  wishing  to  write  to  you.  Will  this  letter 
reach  you?  I  shall  not  know  unless  you  will  kindly  send  me  a  few  words 
to  say  you  have  received  it.  I  have  nothing  good  to  tell  you  of  myself. 
After  having  devoted  myself  body  and  soul  to  my  son,  he  has  played  me  the 
trick  of  marrying  a  perfectly  impossible  woman  who  is  fourteen  years  older 
than  himself, — to  the  great  scandal  of  the  country  and  the  whole  of  Europe. 

I  am  not  willing  to  accept  the  situation  and  here  I  am,  high  and  dry  not 
knowing  what  I  shall  do.  Pardon  me  for  speaking  of  these  matters  to  you, 
but  in  my  old  age,  and  with  my  hair  nearer  white  than  gray,  it  is  too  hard. 
I  have  deserved  better  than  this. 

Milan. 


Page  272 

My  life  is  saddened  by  the  difficulty  of  writing  "A  Tragic  Idyll."  It 
is  a  beautiful  subject  on  which  I  should  write  you  20  pages.  With  patience 
I  will  come  to  the  end  of  it— but  it  is  terribly  hard.  Arrived  at  a  certain 
point  in  life,  one  knows  too  much  of  it,  wishes  to  do  too  much,  and  is  not 
able  to  express  what  one  has  to  say.  Do  you  know  that  Tourgueniew  has 
summed  it  all  up  when  he  said  "Life  is  a  brutal  aflfair." 


470 


A'^' 


THE  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

Santa  Barbara 


STACK  COLLECTION 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW. 


30m-8,'65(F6447s4)9482 


i 


3  1205  01848  3303 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA      000  280  807    9 


